


Rebuilding

by Freespiritedone



Series: Rebuilding [1]
Category: Shameless (US), gallavich - Fandom
Genre: Being a dad is hard, Canon Divergent, Love sucks, M/M, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Violence, Redefining Family, Sexual Dysfunction, Trust Issues, co-habitation, psych issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-27
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:39:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 61
Words: 236,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22919341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Freespiritedone/pseuds/Freespiritedone
Summary: After almost 6 years in prison during which he was simultaneously built up and torn down, Mickey is free and embarking on a brand new life in New York City.  Everything is different and yet some things never change - even if he wishes they would.  Coming to terms with a new life while contending with the old is harder than anything he could have imagined.Slow burn.  Canon divergent after ep 6.1.  Tags will update as we get into the shit storm that has been Mickey’s life.  It gets very dark in places, but is ultimately about hope and overcoming past horrors.  There will be a happy ending - eventually.I’m just trying to work through their issues and bring it to a happy end because I think Mickey and Ian deserve that.There will be a part 2, so don’t worry.  I’m not leaving this here.  We still need our happy ending.
Relationships: Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Series: Rebuilding [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1866832
Comments: 662
Kudos: 759





	1. The Ginger Menace

**Author's Note:**

> Full disclosure: This thing is LONG...so long I’m splitting it into parts. This part doesn’t end with our boys in a great place, but it ends in the only logical place it could. The next part will pick up a short time in the future.
> 
> It deals with some pretty dark themes so if you cannot deal with the aftermath of rape, please don’t put yourself through this. As a survivor myself, in many ways this is me working through my own shit. Adding to the fun, my brother is bipolar with psychotic features. He’s an amazing, successful guy when he’s even and terrifying when he slips too far either way. Mitigating the highs and lows is a huge part of his life and the lives of his loved ones. This is also me processing through how to love someone who’s moods are both labile and destructive.
> 
> There will ultimately be a happy ending, but getting there is anything but easy.

Mickey Milkovich stood outside Svetlana’s swanky upper east side apartment building trying to calm his breathing.

He had panic attacks now and this was just the latest in a long string of events that had pulled the hair trigger on his overactive fight or flight response. His shrink called it PTSD. All Mickey could hear was his father calling him a fucking pussy.

The shitty thing about panic attacks was how uncontrollable they were. It wasn’t like he could bluff his way through one. When it hit, it hit and he was powerless to do more than try to control his breathing and wait for it to pass.

This one needed to pass soon. He had already missed his son’s first five birthdays. He was not missing this one, too.

Fatherhood had not come easily to Mickey. He had pretty much hated the rug rat, but then he had to watch the kid growing up through plexiglass and somehow that changed things. It wasn’t the kid’s fault how he came into the world, but it would be Mickey’s if the kid came up the same way he had. There wasn’t much he could do about that from prison, but when he got out he took an active interest in the kid’s life.

He had not been sure Svetlana would let him since it was one thing to see the kid for a few minutes every few weeks and another to spend time with him in the real world, but she encouraged it. For the past six months since he got out, he visited with Yevgeny every weekend in parks, kid friendly restaurants and Svetlana brought him sometimes to Mickey’s apartment in Brooklyn.

It took her that long to guilt him into participating in Yevgeny’s school stuff.

Mickey had been in prison for five and a half years. In that time Svetlana had moved way up in the world. She was second in command (which meant she basically ran the place) of a rapidly growing gaming company.

Of course, she sent Yevgeny to one of New York’s finest (i.e. most expensive) private schools and while she was able to pull off pretending she belonged, it was abundantly obvious Mickey did not.

He had been a fucking side show freak at Yevgeny’s school play recently with lots of people staring at him and a few feinting interest so they could gossip later about the low life thug they so graciously tried to befriend. Mickey had hated nearly every second of the evening. The only reason he was willing to endure it again was because of how happy Yevgeny had been that he came.

So really, it was little wonder his heart was pounding and his breathing was erratic. This party promised everything Mickey hated: crowds, over privileged people, small talk, children who were not his, seeing people he did not want to see, the list went on.

“Hey fuck face, you going in or what?”

Sometimes the only way Mickey recognized his sister was by her voice. The Mandy of today was barely recognizable when compared to the one he knew before prison.

She no longer hid behind badly dyed hair and makeup so thick and dark it looked like she had applied it with with a cement trowel. She was still slender, but no longer bony and she dressed much better than she used to. She had upgraded her look from Gothic Southside skank to upper middle class New Yorker. She was finally working her pale skin, dark hair and clear blue eyes to her advantage. Mickey thought she looked like an edgy, modern day Snow White.

It was not just an upgrade of appearance. She had also decided to make something of herself.

She had finally realized all those strings she pulled for Lip Gallagher could also be pulled for herself. Mandy was only one semester away from a bachelors degree in hotel and restaurant management from NYU. She had a job as a management trainee at a huge hotel on Time Square where she was specializing in event planning. She fucking loved it. Mickey was happy for her. She was the only Milkovich worth a damn anyway.

“Come on.” Mandy hooked her hand into the crook of his arm and tugged him past the doorman and into the building.

The lobby was all white marble and neoclassical details. It made Mickey’s skin crawl with how out of place he was in such a grand space. Svetlana, of course, had taken to it like a duck to water.

The elevator ride to Svetlana’s penthouse was torture as Mickey’s ears were abused by a Muzak version of Nirvana’s Lithium. Until this moment he had liked the song. Mickey’s leg bounced.

They paused at the door and Mandy looked him over critically before she tucked a strand of hair behind his ear and made a slight adjustment to his shirt collar. “You ready for this?”

Hell no, he wasn’t ready. He would probably never be comfortable in this new world he had somehow been thrown into, but the panic attack had passed leaving him simultaneously exhausted and wired with nervous energy. For the sake of the other five birthdays he had missed, he would get through this one. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Then into the lion’s den we go.” Mandy said ringing the doorbell.

“Papa!” Yevgeny exclaimed as soon as he opened the door. Mickey had barely braced for impact before Yevgeny slammed into him with a fierce hug. “You came! You came to my birthday party!”

“Of course I did, kid. Wouldn’t miss it for anything.” Mickey had freaked out the first time Yevgeny called him papa. That word carried an enormous weight of responsibility and pain for Mickey. He had no idea how to be a father because all he knew was abuse. Svetlana pointed out to him abuse was all she knew too and so far she hadn’t fucked the kid up. She was a great mom so maybe there was hope for him.

When Yevgeny’s grip around his middle relaxed, Mickey pushed his son back so he could look at him. His blonde hair was starting to darken and he definitely had Milkovich blue eyes.

Mickey’s prison shrink had had a lot to say about Yevgeny. This kid was a reminder of one the most terrible experiences of his life. Mickey had hated him for it at first and protested his dubious paternity, but with time and a lot of talking had come to see the little boy in a different light. If he didn’t claim the kid there was always the possibility Terry would. Condemning another soul to his father’s cruelty wasn’t something Mickey was willing to do. So, Mickey had decided to man up and try.

He was so glad he did. Choking back a lump in his throat, Mickey tried to lighten his mood by teasing, “Now, how old are you again? Four? Five?”

“No, Papa. I’m six.” Yevgeny replied with great seriousness holding up six fingers to emphasize his point.

Mickey grinned. “You’re getting to be an old man.”

“He is big boy now.” Svetlana swept over and ruffled Yevgeny’s hair. She was smiling. Mickey had seen a couple other smiles during his visits with his son, but the sight of a happy Svetlana still unsettled him. It seemed unnatural somehow.

“Papa, you wanna meet my friends?” Yevgeny tugged on his sleeve trying to draw Mickey’s attention back to himself.

Hell no, mingling was not Mickey’s thing and the idea of mingling with children made his palms sweat, but there was no way he could say no to those big blue puppy dog eyes starring up at him. Conceding he would in fact be dragged around the room and shown off like a prize poodle, Mickey decided to take a stab at parenting before submitting himself to torture. “Can you say hi to your aunt first?”

“Hi, Mandy.” Yevgeny called as he grabbed Mickey’s hand in his own and started tugging, “Come on, Papa!”

Svetlana and Mandy just smiled at him as he was dragged away.

For the next hour (it felt like 10) Mickey dutifully followed his son around the apartment meeting Yevgeny’s classmates. After the first three, he gave up trying to remember their names. The number of times he crouched down to meet a kid and stood back up made him feel like he was at mass or something. The motion made his hip hurt more than usual and his thighs were burning.

Svetlana finally put an end to his misery by announcing the games would start. Yevgeny dove in eagerly and Mickey was momentarily forgotten. He immediately retreated to where he found Mandy sipping a mimosa and chatting with one of the moms.

“He finally let you go?” Mandy asked as the mom looked at him with an unreadable expression and slipped away into the crowd of adults milling around the drinks table.

“Yeah, the dog and pony show is over for now.” Mickey replied, but he was smiling. As uncomfortable as it was, it was equally awesome to have his son be proud of him. It was a feeling he had never experienced before and something he was determined to hang on to. To hell with all the side eye he was getting from the other parents.

“Give the kid a break, Mickey. He’s just so happy to have his dad back. Having you here means a lot to him.”

It meant the world to Mickey, too.

A server passed by carrying a tray of adult beverages. Mickey took an IPA. At home he still drank the same shitty beer he had grown up on, but he was getting used to the small batch, microbrews these people insisted on drinking. If they wanted to foot the bill for it, he was happy to drink it.

Mickey was just starting to settle down and maybe even enjoy himself a little when he saw his son fly by in a blur and heard him gleefully scream, “Ian!”

Mickey’s heart sank.

It wasn’t as if he had not known Ian would be coming. Ian had been a fixture in Yevgeny’s life the entire time Mickey had been incarcerated. Of course he would be at the kid’s birthday party. It had been a miracle Ian had not been able to make the play.

Mickey had known they would see each other here and he had promised himself he would not let it be weird. Ian was an ex from six years ago. He was over it. Surely Ian was too. There was no need to make it a thing.

The knot forming in his stomach did not agree. Neither did his heart, thudding hard and fast against his rib cage.

“Hey buddy! Happy birthday! Sorry I’m late.” And there he was, crouching down to meet Yevgeny in a huge bear hug that lifted the small, giggling boy off his feet.

“It’s okay, Ian.” Yevgeny patted Ian’s arm and then squirmed to be put down.

Was it terrible Mickey was glad Yevgeny used Ian’s name? He had secretly feared his son thought of Ian as his dad since Ian had been the only consistent male presence in his life. Svetlana and Mandy had told him repeatedly Ian was just Ian and Mickey was Papa, but it took finally seeing it to believe it.

“Ian, you gotta come with me. I have something super awesome to show you! Come on!”

Yevgeny was dragging Ian behind him making a beeline for Mickey and all Mickey could do was stare and try to fight the blush he felt creeping up his cheeks.

Ian was taller, which figured since he’d only been 17 the last time Mickey had seen him. He was wearing a cream colored V neck sweater and dark jeans that emphasized the breadth of his shoulders and the narrowness of his hips. Ian’s hair was starting to fade back to winter auburn but the tips of his overlong fringe were still the fire bright orange of summer. Jesus, Ian looked fucking amazing.

Ian was staring back at him with intense green eyes and Mickey wondered what the other man was seeing. Objectively, Mickey knew he had looked a lot worse, but he also knew he had looked a lot better. Time had not been kind to him. He had added some real brutes to his scar collection and recovering from the wounds creating them had taken a toll on his body. He was far skinnier than he had been, little more than pale skin drawn across visible bones. He had only recently been able to do away with the cane and there was still a limp in his walk he insisted was a swagger.

Comparatively speaking, Mickey felt self conscious and ugly, but he could see none of that in Ian’s gaze. No, Ian clearly liked what he saw. Mickey frowned.

Yevgeny pulled Ian to a stop right in front of Mickey, so close he could smell Ian’s cologne which was new and spicy and fucking fantastic. Mickey’s frown deepened.

With a showman’s flourish, Yevgeny gestured to Mickey and announced, “This is my Papa!”

Never taking his deep green eyes off of Mickey’s, Ian asked the bouncing boy beside him, “Is your Papa as cool as I told you he was?”

“Oh yeah! He’s the coolest dad in the whole world!”

Mickey let his gaze fall to his son. The look on the boy’s face was something that would be seared into Mickey’s memory, for better or worse. It was a look to live up to and the pressure to be half the man his son thought he was settled like a hard ball in his stomach.

Then the moment was over as Yevgeny’s blue eyes noticed a small wrapped parcel in Ian’s giant mitt of a hand. “Is that for me?”

“Know anyone else who’s having a birthday?” Ian asked.

Yevgeny shook his head with a frown. “Nope.”

“Then it must be for you.” Ian replied holding the package up and out of the little boy’s reach. “We’ll play with it in a little bit when your done with your party games, okay?”

“Promise?”

“I promise. You’re gonna miss the piñata if you don’t get over there, Yev.”

With a last huge smile Yevgeny spun around and ran for the group of children crowding around Svetlana on the balcony.

Mickey glanced to his right where Mandy had been only to discover she had abandoned him. He was alone with Ian. Shit.

Ian leaned against the counter and watched the little boy as he was blind folded and spun around. Svetlana put a stick in his hand and pointed him in the general direction of a Pikachu shaped piñata.

Yevgeny’s first swing missed as did his second. He caught the edge of the piñata on his third and then it was another kids turn.

“He’s a great kid, Mick.” Ian said.

Those were the first words spoken between them since Ian’s last disastrous visit at the beginning of Mickey’s incarceration. Somehow Mickey had expected their first words to be either a fight or an apology, not a discussion of the merits of his kid

Mickey took another swig of his beer and nodded his agreement. “Yeah, he is. Svet’s done a good job with him.”

Now Ian was nodding. “She’s an amazing mom. Yev’s a lucky little guy.”

An awkward silence descended between them. Ian took a beer off a passing tray and Mickey stared at it for a moment before glancing up to meet an arched eyebrow. He shrugged and turned his attention back to the piñata. Policing Ian’s drinking habits was no longer his job.

As the minutes passed and the piñata gave up the first of its candy innards, Mickey was fighting a growing urge to break the silence. There was so much unspoken between them. Four years of therapy had made him more aware of his emotions though his instinct was still to suppress them. He was angry. Very, very angry at Ian and he wanted to just go on pretending the ginger idiot did not exist, but seeing how happy Ian made Yevgeny, Mickey knew he and Ian would never really be free of each other.

Hiding how he felt was second nature. He wanted Ian to leave this party knowing he meant nothing to Mickey but for the sake of the kid he didn’t want to be obviously mean about it. Instead he murdered the silence with the sort of small talk Ian knew he never engaged in. “So you’ve done well for yourself.”

“Yeah, guess so.” Ian shrugged as if it were no big deal but the look in his eyes made it clear Ian felt the blow.

Mickey snorted.

Ian was like the second coming of Christ to the gaming world. The story went Ian and a guy called Garry Morrison Addams were paired up as a team in a game design class at community college. No one wanted to partner with Garry because of his autism, but Ian found a way to work with him. The project they presented at the end of the semester was so good their teacher told them to find a lawyer to copyright the game and patent the code.

For once in his life Ian listened to good advice and Claymore Studios was born a short time later. They reached out to friends and friends of friends to get it off the ground. Svetlana was one of those friends.

They built a website that told the story of the game and posted links in gaming forums and on social media. They sought out capital through rewards based crowd sourcing using language that spoke to their generation, trading on the uniqueness of the game and the team creating it which at that time consisted of a bipolar gay visionary, an autistic genius coder, a business woman who had entered the country illegally via sex trafficking, a combat veteran amputee, a former hacker with a felony conviction and a handful of “normal” people. They talked about how they wanted Claymore to be an inclusive company that believed in first and second chances.

A buzz started.

They got their funding in excess of what they had asked for and were able to do a limited launch of the game. Demand quickly exceeded bandwidth and Claymore Studios scrambled to keep up. Their inability to meet early demand only increased the fervor for the game and further crowd funding efforts allowed them to do a proper launch. The game exploded.

Survive Southside currently had nearly 300 million players and was still growing. They moved the company to New York and released four more games aimed at different audiences. They were successful but nothing like the first and talk spread of Claymore Studios being a one hit wonder.

Then as Mickey was awaiting the decision on his appeal Claymore Studios released Torchlight. The gaming world again lost their minds and another smash hit was born.

Mickey had recently read an article that estimated Ian’s net worth at about 250 million and climbing. He was a true American rags to riches story.

Mickey snuck another glance at the ginger millionaire. Besides the nicer clothes and the Apple Watch he didn’t look any different. He was different though. They both were.

Ian caught him looking and smiled. “From what I hear I’m not the only one who’s made good.”

Under any other circumstances and talking to literally anyone else, Mickey would probably be proud of himself. If he was nothing else, he was a survivor.

Prison had been hard, far harder than he ever could have imagined.

After Terry was transferred to his unit Mickey’s life had become a literal hell. He was no longer protected by his name and his fists were no match for his dad or his army of white nationalists. Mickey was a torn and bleeding mess in the ICU by the end of Terry’s first week. It was the first of many visits to the hospital.

After the hospital released him back to prison the first time, Mickey was kept in a medical ward due to the extent of his injuries. As the saying goes, it was the best of times and the worst of times. His physical injuries had been terrible but the forced down time spent in a lower security ward had been a blessing.

The prison doctor, Dr. Peterson, took a shine to him. Mickey still had no idea why. He insisted while Mickey was in his direct care that he would see the prison psychiatrist and he would work on his GED. It was something to occupy his mind so Mickey did, even after he was transferred back to the general population.

After his next hospitalization Mickey completed his GED. Then Dr. Peterson insisted Mickey look into college courses which the shrink, Dr. Mohammed, agreed with.

Wanting to shut them up, Mickey applied and was stunned when he received his acceptance letter. After a lot of nagging, his doctors got him to agree to take the classes. Since his usual prison pass time, working out, was not an option it was at least something to do.

He was in prison on a 15 year sentence with possibility of parol at 10. Over crowding might have him out in eight. At the rate things had been going Mickey had not figured he would live that long, but the studying had given him something to focus on other than the near constant terror of his father’s next attack.

Mickey had still been studying when he was approached by a lawyer from a charity called the Innocence Project. They wanted to file an appeal on his behalf. Though he wondered how they heard of him, Mickey didn’t really care. He had jumped at the chance even though he knew the odds were slim.

It’s took six months to file his appeal and another year and a half for the final judgement, but in the end Mickey was exonerated and his record was expunged. The conduct of the police, ADA and public defender had been so bad the appeals court judge launched an investigation into the mishandling of his case.

He left prison with a host of health problems, a bachelors degree in accounting, a minor in finance and a promise of $85,350 in compensation for wrongful imprisonment. He knew an empty promise when he heard it, well aware the legal fees he would have to pay to finally get that money would take most of it.

He walked straight out of prison and onto a Greyhound bus bound for New York.

He had never held a legit job other than his brief stint at the Kash & Grab. He had no connections in New York other than Mandy, but she came through for him. Lucy, one of Mandy’s friends, referred him to an accounting firm that specialized in forensics.

Mickey might not have had any legal work history but he did have a long and varied criminal history and he had kept the books for the family ‘business’. Somehow this made him worthy of an interview. As a test they had sent him home with a case file and told him he had a week to take it as far as he could.

Mickey figured out how the books were cooked the day he got the file and then spent two days working backward to figure out how much was laundered. When he knew the how, figuring out the how much was easy. That was just data parsing. He called Tom Stevens at Wolfe, Pratt & Stevens and told him how the money was laundered and said he would have the paperwork sorted out by the scheduled second interview.

It turned out Mickey was the only applicant in eight years to solve the case. The firm used it as a test to see how applicants worked organizing and parsing information. No one was expected to solve it in the allotted week and he was only one of two people who had. Tom Stevens was the other one.

He got the job.

It was a little bumpy dealing with the people at work, but Mickey liked his job.

Talking to anyone else, he’d be proud as fuck of what he had accomplished, but it seemed like small potatoes when compared to $250 million.

Mickey shrugged.

“Who would have ever thought, huh?” Ian asked with a satisfied smile.

“No one, because it’s fucking crazy.” Mickey grabbed another beer from a passing tray. The piñata had finally exploded and kids were scrambling around collecting candy and toys.

“Yeah, it is.” Ian agreed, still sipping on his first (and it better be only) beer. “How are you liking New York so far?”

It was a casual question, but Mickey knew it was leading to something deeper. Ian had that look on his face which meant he was warming up to something.

God, Mickey didn’t want to do this. “We’re in Brooklyn.”

“Yeah, I know. Like it?”

Or maybe he did. Maybe he did want to watch the man who had crushed his heart and raked it over hot coals eat some humble pie. Maybe it was time to hear the inevitable apologies and excuses.

Yeah. Mickey guzzled the remainder of his beer and deadpanned, “Beats prison.”

“Mickey, I’m so, so...”

But then again, no. Just no. He didn’t want to look into huge, tear glistened green eyes. He did not want to forgive Ian, which he might if he let the asshole get the words out. Fuck that. He cut Ian off. “Yeah, yeah, you’re sorry.”

And damn it if he was not skewered by the glittery green eyes he was so susceptible to. Ian moved to stand directly in front of him, sincerity oozing from every pore. “I am. I really am.”

It was too much. He couldn’t do this now. Mickey’s eyes skittered around the room looking for something else, anything else, to focus on and landed on Svetlana and Mandy who were watching them. In a rare act of pity, Mandy lifted a gift bag and cocked her head in question. Mickey nodded. To Ian he said, “I think we’re about to do presents.”

Ian put a hand on his arm and the way Mickey’s skin ignited was a pleasure-pain the shorter man had almost forgotten. “Mickey...”

“No.” Mickey shrugged off the touch and the sense of loss that came with it. He pushed away from the counter he had been leaning on and started to make his way toward the gift table. “Let’s go open some fucking birthday presents.”

“Yeah. Okay.” Ian murmured as he followed Mickey back into the living room.

***

Mickey was bone tired. The injury he was still dealing with had sapped his strength and it was taking for-fucking-ever to get back to normal. The emotional toll of smiling and trying to be polite AND social left him exhausted. Seeing Ian had sent him over the cliff’s edge and he was just hanging on by his fingertips.

But he had one last thing to do before he and Mandy returned to the apartment they shared.

He had been asked to read a bedtime story and the thrill of being chosen over Ian had given him the energy to haul himself up from the couch and painfully limp after his son.

Yevgeny fell asleep about half way through and Mickey watched the little boy for a while.

Mickey remembered his mother would read to him sometimes when Terry was in jail. Things had always been a little better when his dad had been locked up. His mom would try to get her act together when Terry wasn’t there to undermine her confidence and send her back into a drug induced stupor.

The memory hurt, so he turned his thoughts back to Yevgeny. The kid had asked for him to do the voices like Ian does. Mickey had felt like a fucking idiot, but he tried.

It was weird. On the one hand, he had the legacy of Terry to live down. Mickey had already vowed he would never raise a hand to his son. He would let Yevgeny be whoever Yevgeny was going to be. He would love his son through anything and everything life threw in the little boy’s path.

On the other hand, Ian had set the bar on fatherhood pretty damn high and it pissed him off. The number of times he had to hear about how Ian did something and how Yevgeny wanted to do whatever they were attempting to do Ian’s way, made Mickey’s blood boil with jealousy.

Granted there were five years of the kid’s life he had missed out on and, in truth, Mickey was grateful Ian had filled the void, but damn it if it didn’t suck always being compared to someone he would rather forget existed.

Svetlana poked her head in the door and looked at Yevgeny. “He sleeps. You help clean up.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Mickey agreed. Getting up from the low bed proved harder than he would have thought and he groaned with the effort and accompanying pain. His joints were not what they used to be.

“Why do you not bring cane?” Svetlana asked as she reached out to help him up.

Mickey slapped her hand away and snapped, “Because I don’t fucking need it anymore.”

“You don’t want orange boy to see it.” She replied, grabbing his arm again and hauling him to his feet.

“Whatever.” Mickey harrumphed as he limped his way down the hall behind his ex-wife.

In the kitchen she pulled a stool around to the sink and patted it. “You sit.”

Mickey sat. His right hip was killing him.

“I wash. You dry.”

Mickey took the offered dish towel and waited for Svetlana to start handing him glasses.

“It was good party.”

“Yeah. Kid had fun I think.” Mickey agreed. Yevgeny had been the life of the party, flitting from group to group with a charm Mickey had never possessed. It reminded him of Ian and how easily the ginger man fit in to whatever situation he found himself in. It was an innate chameleon-esque charisma Mickey figured you were either born with or you weren’t. He definitely wasn’t.

“Kids enjoy dancing game.”

Yeah, the dancing game had been a hit. Ian had asked Svetlana to turn down the lights and then put a little black camera on top of the TV and started up the game. It was like a dancing game version of Simon Says crossed with Musical Chairs. It was not even a full beta version and far from bug free, but it had been hilarious watching the kids try to keep up with their generic avatar’s moves on screen while also following random directions. In the end a little girl with curly brown hair won. The prize was to join Yevgeny on a visit to Claymore Studios to be models for the game’s customizable dancing avatars.

“When do you think for Disney World?” Svetlana asked, referencing Mickey’s gift to his son.

“I was hoping for the third week in February if that works for you. My boss said I can have the time off if you agree it’s okay.” It was going to be hugely expensive, but in some bizarre twist of fate, Mickey could afford it. It was the sort of thing he had never dared dream about when he was a kid. Hell, not even when he was an adult, but it was something he had secretly always wanted to do. It would be a first time experience he could share with his son.

Svetlana handed him a wine glass to dry. “He will miss school.”

“Yeah, but how big a deal is that in first grade?” Yevgeny was already testing at the top of his class. It wasn’t like the kid would fall so far behind he could not recover in five fucking days.

“For future, vacations only on school holiday, yes?”

“Fine.” Mickey agreed because he had known Svetlana long enough to know she would only agree to this trip if he agreed to the school holiday schedule.

As predicted she said, “Third week of February is okay.”

“I’ll go ahead and get it booked then. I was thinking about getting a suite so you’d have your own room.” He had looked into the pricing and it was insanely expensive, but still cheaper than separate rooms.

Svetlana stopped washing wine glasses and rolled her eyes at him. “This is father-son trip.”

Mickey’s eyes widened. He had never imagined his ex-wife would let him have his son alone for an entire week in another state. He wasn’t sure he was ready for that.

“Or maybe you take orange boy, too.” She muttered as she turned back to the wine glasses.

“You sure you don’t wanna come?” Mickey asked, ignoring the reference to Ian. He was still hung up on going to Disney World with Yevgeny by himself. The thought scared the hell out of him.

“Yes.” She handed him another glass to dry.

“We’re done with all the wrapping paper and gift bags.” Mandy announced as she tripped into the kitchen with Ian hot on her heels. “What else do you need?”

“Is good, I think. Housekeeper comes tomorrow.” Svetlana replied as she surveyed her apartment. All the big stuff had been cleared up. “You can go now.”

Mickey slipped off his stool and waited for the pain in his hip to pass.

“You okay, Mickey?” Ian asked.

“Fine.” Mickey growled while attempting to will the limp out of his gait.

From the look on Ian’s face it was clear he was not succeeding.

“I have a car here. I can give you guys a ride home if you want.”

“No.” Mickey said at the same time Mandy said, “That would be great!”

Mandy turned and glared at Mickey. “It’s three blocks to the subway from here and two more from our stop, Mickey. That hip isn’t going to hold up. Let Ian give us a ride.”

“What happened to your hip?” Ian asked.

“None of your fucking business is what.” Mickey growled back.

The pain was no joke and he could see both his companions wanted to help him walk, but all Mickey could think was if either of them touched him he would murder them.

Wisely, neither of them did. They just kept pace with him as he limped to the elevator and then followed Ian to his car. It was not what Mickey would have expected. He was thinking Ian would drive something exotic like a Lamborghini or Ferrari or maybe even a Bentley, but instead it was a run of the mill black sedan from a car service.

Climbing into the back seat hurt, but Mickey had to admit sitting in plush leather beat the hell out of a five block walk and a plastic subway bench.

Mandy, God bless her, sat between them and kept a running stream of conversation going with Ian.

Mickey half listened. Mostly he was thinking about the big bottle of Advil sitting on his bedside table and how much he wanted some.

When the sedan finally pulled up in front of the Milkovich sibling’s building Mickey was so stiff Mandy had to help him get out of the car.

“Can I help?” Ian asked, climbing out and coming around to assist.

Mickey was already trying to shake off Mandy’s arm around his waist. Mandy held tight to him while with the other hand staved off Ian’s rush to take up his other side. “It’s cool. We’ve got it. Get home safe, okay?”

“Yeah. Okay.” The air was filled with awkwardness and unsaid words. Unfortunately, Ian never could leave an awkward situation alone. “Hey, Mickey? Can we get together sometime to ta...”

“No.” Mickey responded before Ian could finish the question. He was not in the mood for this.

Ian offered a small smile coupled with the puppy dog eyes Mickey had always been susceptible to and tried again, “But...”

“I said no, Gallagher. Can you for once respect a decision I make? Fuck.”

Ian blinked and his eyes were way too bright. He cleared his throat. “If that’s what you want, okay.”

Mickey turned his back and started on the painful journey from the curb to the entrance. He hated it when Ian sounded like that, but he did not have the energy or will to deal with Ian’s precious feelings. Not now. Probably not ever. Over his shoulder he said, “That’s what I want.”

Mandy glared at him, but she didn’t say anything as she helped him inside the building and practically carried him up three flights of stairs to their apartment. As soon as they were inside she dropped him like a hot rock and stalked into her bedroom leaving Mickey to find his own way to his bed.

2/26/2020


	2. 2. Pain in the Hip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter setting up the next...

Mickey’s hip had been hurting worse each day since the party.It was bad enough he started using the cane again.

Two weeks of agony later, he finally broke down and made an appointment to see a doctor. 

Having health insurance was a new experience.He handed over the $50 co-pay and that was that.He met his new doctor, Albert Lieberman, and with the minimum details necessary explained what was wrong with his hip.Thankfully, Dr. Lieberman wasn’t too pushy and after a brief chat sent Mickey down the hall for an x-ray. 

After a very long wait, Dr. Lieberman met with him again to “talk about his results” which turned out to be code for referring him to someone else.

Two hours later Mickey found himself in the waiting room of Dr. Jorge Gonzalez, orthopedic surgeon, who specialized in hips and knees. 

All Mickey knew was there was an issue with one of the pins holding his hip together and that Dr. Gonzalez would be able to explain what was wrong and what needed to be done to fix it.

“Mikhailo Milkovich?” A woman in teal blue scrubs called out.

He raised a hand and started to get up only to have someone roll up on him with a wheelchair.He arched an incredulous eyebrow and the fear set in.This was bad if they wouldn’t let him walk on it anymore.

“Get in.I’ll take you back to meet with Dr. Gonzalez.”

Vital signs were retaken, his med list (occasional Advil) was reviewed and then he waited. 

Dr. Gonzalez turned out to be a short, round man with kind eyes and small, soft hands.“You go by Mickey right?Can I call you Mickey?”

“Sure.”

“You can call me Gonzo.I want to show you what’s going on with your hip, but first I have to ask you how did this injury happen?” 

“Car accident.”

Dr. Gonzalez smiled and shook his head.“Nope.I’ve seen probably a thousand MVA injuries.How about the real reason?”

Fine.“My fucker of a father and his gang of skinheads beat the shit out of me.”

“Well, that would explain it.”The doctor replied without batting an eye.

Mickey just glared, daring the doctor to judge him.

Dr. Gonzalez shook his head.“Alright, let me show you what’s going on with your hip.”

An x-ray image appeared on the computer screen.

“This is your hip and these are the pins holding it together. I’m not going to lie, this is really shoddy work.The problem is two fold.First, you see this?That’s a pin that has backed out about a centimeter.That’s why you’re in so much pain.The other issue is the joint didn’t heal properly because it wasn’t set properly.”

“So another surgery to drill the pin back in?”

“It will probably be more complex than that.This is not a healthy joint, but it may be all we have to work with.Do you see this here and here?These are two other fractures that are held together by rods and pins.This here, is were the labrum is supposed to be.That’s the cartilage that cushions the joint.Yours is very thin and this pin here looks like it might be protruding though. That may also be a contributing factor in why it hurts so much.”

Mickey had no real idea what he was looking at other than the glaringly obvious pin that was digging into his flesh.Everything the doctor was saying sounded ominous.“So what do you recommend?”

“You’re only 25. We can try to repair the labrum and reset the pins to strengthen the joint.”

Mickey knew a lead in when he heard one.“But?”

“But I think you’d be better off with a total hip replacement.”

“Are you shitting me?”

“Now, I know you’re picturing little old men hobbling around on canes for the rest of their lives, right?”Dr. Gonzalez swiveled in his chair and picked up a photo album which he handed to Mickey.“Look at this.”

“What’s this?”Mickey asked flipping it open.The first two pages held imagines of the same ballerina doing the same pose in different clothes with a leg held high over her head while she stood on her tiptoes.

Dr.Gonzalez leaned forward.“This is my brag book.Everyone in this book has had either a total hip or a total knee replacement and nearly all of them went back to working at the same level they had before surgery.” 

Dr. Gonzalez flipped a few pages and pointed to a male dancer leaping through the air in a full split. The first thought through Mickey’s head was, damn that guy got air.The second was how did he do that?

“That’s an after picture if you’re wondering.If he can still do that, I’m pretty sure you’ll be able to walk without pain, have sex, run, ski, snowboard, mountain bike, whatever it is you’re into.”

Mickey had not even considered how his hip would impact his sex life since that was basically nonexistent these days, but now that he was thinking about it, it just added to the list of things to freak out about.“Wow.This is a lot to take in.”

“I take it your previous surgery was emergent.”

“Yeah, they told me afterwards what happened.”

“What I want to do is a dual-mobility total hip replacement using an anterior approach.This type of replacement provides the most range of motion.Replaced joints can wear out, but this type tends to last about 30 years with normal wear and tear.”

“So I’d need a new one in my 50’s?”If he lived that long.

Dr. Gonzalez nodded.“Most likely, yes.”

Another concern popped up in Mickey’s mind.“How long would I be off work?I just started this job a few months ago.”

“I’d say 3 to 4 weeks, though it could be longer depending on how much tissue damage that pin has caused.You’ll have physical therapy three times a week for four weeks and then once a week for two more months.”

“Damn.”That was definitely going to impact his job.

“You can’t keep walking on that hip.You are tearing up the muscle with every step you take which will reduce your mobility after surgery and prolong the recovery.I’d recommend doing this ASAP.”

“Like next week?”Mickey asked, mind blown at how fast this was happening.

“More like tomorrow morning at nine am.”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.This was bad if the guy wanted to operate so fast.

“This qualifies for FMLA which means you cannot be fired from your job.If you have short term disability you will still receive a pay check though it will be at 50-70% depending on the coverage you bought.All you have to do is call HR and request the forms for a medical leave of absence.They will have paperwork they need me to fill out.Here’s my card.Have them fax it over.”

“What if they can’t get it here today?”

“As soon as they can is fine.It’s not unusual for FMLA to be applied retroactively.”

Jesus, this was happening too fast.His head was spinning.“How long would I be in the hospital?”

“Overnight at least, three days at most.”

“This is really fucking fast.”

“Yes, it is, but I would not be pushing this hard if I didn’t think waiting could have life long consequences for you.”

“Shit, not really a choice then is there?”

Dr. Gonzalez stood.“There’s always a choice, Mickey, but choices have consequences.You have to decide what’s right for you.I need to go see another patient but you can stay here and think about it.I’ll come back after so we can get you on the schedule for tomorrow or later if that’s what you want.”

***

“Well hell, Mickey, if the doctor who fixes freaking ballet dancers says you should do it tomorrow, do it tomorrow, loser.”Mandy replied after he had explained to her what the doctor had told him.

Mickey had taken a few minutes to look up total hip replacements on his phone and he was in for a bitch of a surgery and the recovery didn’t look fun either.It was also going to be more than just his issue.“I was reading about the recovery and...”

“You’ll need some help for a while.Duh.Don’t worry about that.I’ll make it work.”

Mickey didn’t know how his sister thought she could balance her work and school obligations while taking care of his crippled ass.“But...”

“I said I’ll make it work.”She’s cut him off. “You should call the office to let them know what’s going on and get started on your FMLA paperwork.”

She hung up on him, but it was a long moment before Mickey removed the phone from his ear.It would be more convenient for planning purposes if he put it off for a week, but just the thought of trying to stand up right now made him cringe.It had been bad when he didn’t know what was causing the pain and it was far worse now that he did.

As he was mulling that problem over Dr.Gonzalez reentered the room and took a seat.“Did you decide?”

“Yeah.”Mickey replied.The situation would not improve with time.“Tomorrow’s good.”

“Excellent.” Dr. Gonzalez clapped his hands.“I thought you’d say that.So the next step is to take a cab to Langone Medical Center.They’ll have all your paperwork ready to admit you by the time you get there.”

“Wait, now?”Mickey asked, shocked.

“Yes, now.There is pre-operative testing that needs to be done today for surgery tomorrow and I want you off that leg so the swelling is at it’s most minimal for tomorrow.Did I forget to mention this?”

“You sure as shit did!”

Dr. Gonzalez had the good grace to look chagrined.“My apologies.Does this change your decision?”

Mickey thought about it.There really wasn’t much difference between showing up tomorrow versus staying over tonight. He had insurance now, but it seemed unlikely he would be getting away with another $50 co-pay for this huge ass surgery. He was about to disappoint his son in a major way since Disney World was no longer an option.With a sigh he agreed, “I guess not.”

“Very good.Gloria will call a cab and wheel you down to it.All I ask is that you hold on to the wheelchair so someone can pick it up tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Alrighty then.See you tomorrow, Mickey.”


	3. 3. Intervention - Orthopedic Surgery Style

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Mickey has surgery and Mandy contrives to reunite our heroes.

Mandy sat in the crowded surgical waiting room trying to do school work.It was not happening though.She had been staring at her accounting book with her eyes glazed over for so long her lids scraped drily over her eye balls when she blinked.

She had a lot on her mind.

Mickey had just gone back to surgery. 

Neither school nor work had been very understanding about her desire to be at home with her brother for at least the first week after surgery.As a sister, even if she was Mickey’s only family (in practice if not on paper) she didn’t qualify for FMLA so both were within their rights to refuse her the time off. 

Work had given her today and the next morning off, but the party she had helped plan required her to be there tomorrow night.She also still had an exam due at midnight tomorrow as her accounting teacher was a fucking douche bag.

She had called Svetlana hoping the Russian would be able to help but all she had offered to do was hire a home health nurse.She would bring Yevgeny by later tonight so he could see his Papa was okay.

That pretty much exhausted the list of people Mickey would accept help from. 

He didn’t have friends.On the rare occasion he went out, he went out with Mandy and her group.Most of her friends were intimidated by Mickey or flat out didn’t like him.Lucy was the only exception but she was in Chicago.

That left Ian as Mandy’s only back up.Mickey would probably kill her but she honestly could not think of anyone else who would drop everything to come help her brother wipe his ass.

As much as Mickey would hate having Ian around, he would hate having a stranger in the house just as much. 

He had come back from prison even less trusting than he had been when he went in.He had never been a touchy-feely kind of guy, but it was even worse now.Since leaving prison he had been known to punch strangers just for tapping him on the shoulder.Every time they were together she worried Mickey would inadvertently hurt Yevgeny.

“How’s he doing?”

Jumping a little and having to catch her book before it fell off her lap, Mandy glanced up. “Oh hi, Ian.He’s only been in surgery about an hour so they probably got started about 30 minutes ago.”

Ian settled into the seat beside her.“Was he okay before they took him?”

“Seemed to be. They hopped him up on Valium first thing this morning.”

Ian grinned.“Well that was smart of them.”

“Definitely.”Mandy agreed.

They were silent for a while, just sitting with their arms touching while Mandy pretended to read and Ian pretended to be interested in the news on TV.

“He’s gonna be pissed I’m here.”

Mandy sighed and closed her unread book. Calling Ian had not really been a choice.She needed the moral support and Mickey would need the physical support.“Yeah, but he can do fuck all about it.”

“I just wish...” Ian trailed off with a sigh.After a pause he looked over at her.“Never mind.You know what I wish.”

“He’s a fucking idiot but he’ll come around.”The truth was both of them were idiots, but what could really be expected from two teenage boys from the Southside?They had done the best they could in spite of being too young, mutual poverty, terrible examples, a homophobic nazi of a father and a new bipolar diagnosis. 

The odds had been stacked against them from the start, but Mandy could see clear as daylight how much they had loved each other then and how much they still loved each other.They were older and (hopefully) wiser now.They could and would do better this time, but it had to start somewhere and maybe this was that moment.“I know he will.He really doesn’t have a choice now anyway.”

“Why do you say that?”

Time to make the big ask.Mandy turned and faced her best friend and took his hand in hers.“Mickey’s gonna need someone at home with him for at least the first week, but all I could get off was today and tomorrow morning.That charity gala I’ve been working on is tomorrow night and, because my life sucks, I also have a test due by tomorrow at midnight that I couldn’t get an extension on.”

Ian blinked at her, comprehension dawning slowly.

Mandy pressed on.“I already asked Svet and she refuses.Mickey can’t tolerate strangers in the house which makes you my option of last resort.”

“So at least a week at your place?”Ian asked and he looked relieved, like he was happy to be given an excuse to be near Mickey.

“Third floor walk up, remember?No elevator.I was hoping the hotel would put us up for the week, but they can’t. Too full.”She shrugged, knowing what Ian would offer.

“So you want to stay at my house.”It wasn’t a question. “He’s going to be epically pissed.”

“And epically incapable of doing anything about it.”Mandy smirked.She knew Mickey would first insist upon staying at a hotel, but she also knew even a tiny mention of the medical bills would be enough to shut him up especially since he had just promised his son a trip to Disney World.Mickey would be worried about how he would pay for the surgery and the hospital stay.Her brother would bitch the entire time, but Mickey would go to Ian’s to avoid adding to his debt or disappointing his son.

“You have to come too then.We’re going to need a buffer, I think.” 

“I was planning on it, at least until he forgives you.”Which was inevitable.What was not certain was how long it would take. 

Ian had been completely off the rails when Mickey was sent to prison.When Mandy ran into him again, he had recently accepted his diagnosis and gotten his meds sorted out.She knew how bad it had been from the stories Ian had told her.She knew the guilt he carried.She had been angry at first, but had not been in any position to judge.Her own life had way been off the rails, too.

“He’s not going to forgive me, Mandy.”Ian sighed and his head fell so his gaze was stuck on his hands folded in his lap.

“He still loves you, but you were an asshole and he’s been through hell and back since then.”

Ian nodded and then reached over into Mandy’s lap to grab her book. “What are you working on?”

She made a face.“The last accounting class I will ever take. I hate this shit.”

Ian smiled.“At least you’ll have Mickey as a captive tutor for a week.”

“Too bad he’ll be high as a kite tomorrow when I have to take this damn test.”Mickey had helped her a lot on the last two tests.

“I bet he could still ace it.”Ian replied.

“Probably.”

“I could maybe get Aaron from accounting to help you.”Ian smirked, fully aware Mandy wanted nothing to do with Aaron, ever.

“Ew, no thanks.I’d rather fail.”

Ian laughed.

***

Two and a half hours later, Dr. Gonzalez came out.He looked around the room and asked, “Milkovich?”

Mandy leapt out of her chair and rushed to the doctor with Ian hot on her heels.“I’m Mandy Milkovich.”

“Dr. Gonzalez.Let’s go in here so we can talk, okay?”

Mandy’s heart immediately sank.“Is it bad?”

Dr. Gonzalez smiled and put a hand behind her in an effort to guide her toward a little room off to the side.“No, no, just privacy laws.”

Ian went to follow her, but Dr. Gonzalez held up a hand to stop him.“And you are?”

“This is Ian Gallagher,” Mandy paused and then spoke what she hoped would be true again soon. “Mickey’s boyfriend.”

“Oh, I see.”Mandy thought the doctor might have waggled his eyebrows before he held out a hand to Ian which the younger man took.“Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Gallagher.My kids think you walk on water.”

“I don’t know, looks like dry land to me.”Ian smiled and if she didn’t know him better Mandy would think he was faking the bashfulness, but he really did seem overwhelmed by his success.“How’s Mickey?”

Once they were in the room and the door was closed Dr. Gonzalez said, “He did very well.His existing hip repair was a mangled mess which complicated things somewhat.Mickey has previously sustained multiple fractures which had the potential to make the femur too weak to support a new joint.Luckily, the intertrochantic and subtrochantic fractures look good.”He used a little model to indicate what he was talking about.“The intracapsular repair was the real problem.It had three pins, one of which had backed out 1.3 centimeters.On the x-ray it was hard to see, but I was right and another pin had been drilled in too far and was actually poking 3 millimeters through the femoral head and into the labrum.I’m amazed it took him this long to seek help because that had to hurt like a son of a gun.”

Mandy and Ian exchanged a look.Mickey could be unbelievably stubborn sometimes.

“Anyway, I replaced the hip joint with a dual mobility device using an anterior approach as previously discussed.That part of the surgery went very well.However, the exposed pin did a great job tearing up the muscles here, especially the tensor fascia latae.It tore all the way through to the subcutaneous fat layer.There was a lot of scar tissue which I cleaned up as best I could, but he’s going to need extra recovery time.The anterior approach usually has a recovery period of under a month with two months of continuing rehab, but because of the muscle damage caused by the pin I think it would be best if we treat this, at least initially, like a traditional posterior approach which means we’re looking at more like six to eight weeks recovery time with about four more months rehab.”

Well that was a wrinkle in the plan.Mandy glanced over at Ian to see his reaction, but his face was unreadable.A question she had not been considering when the recovery time was two to four weeks suddenly seemed important to ask.“We live in a third floor walk up.How soon before he can manage stairs?”

“Three flights?I’d say we’re at least six to eight weeks away from that depending on how his physical therapy goes.He should have mentioned the stairs beforehand so arrangements could be made.There’s a rehab, but given my approach, his age and general state of health, insurance probably wouldn’t cover it...”

Ian cut him off. “They’re going to stay at my place for however long it takes.It has a handicap entrance and an elevator.”

“What floor are you on?”

Ian shook his head.“It’s a house.”

“That’ll work.Barring any complications I’ll discharge him tomorrow, maybe Saturday.PT will come Monday, Wednesday, Friday.My nurse will give you their card so you can make arrangements.The plan is to get him up and walking a little tomorrow morning.Does your bedroom have an en suite?”

“Yes, it does.”Ian nodded.“All the bedrooms do.”

“Very good.It’s not a low toilet is it?”

Ians brow crunched.“I don’t know.Never thought about it.I’ll have to check.”

“You might need an extender for it.Any seat where his knees would be bent at more than a 90 degree angle should be avoided during the recovery phase.”

“If it is, I’ll make arrangements.”Ian assured.Mandy had no doubt Ian’s house would be fully Mickey proof before the day was out, if it wasn’t already.Ian had a lot of special needs employees and had focused on accessibility when he had been remodeling his new brownstone. 

Dr. Gonzalez stood up and Mandy and Ian followed suit.“My nurse will give you detailedinstructions about the do’s and don’ts during recovery.This is my card.Either myself or one of my partners is on call 24/7 if you need anything.”

“Thank you so much, Doctor.”Mandy felt like she was gushing.She wanted to hug him or at least shake his hand, but Dr. Gonzalez had his hands in his pockets.

“My pleasure.” The doctor smiled.They exited the little private room together but before the doctor turned to leave he informed them, “Mickey will need to come to my office in a week for a follow up so I can check his progress and remove the stitches, then we’ll set up the rest of his appointments.”

As she watched the surgeon walk away Mandy felt a lot of the tension she had been carrying melt away.“Well that’s mostly good news.”

Ian, however, was a man on a mission.“I gotta make some calls, okay?”

“Okay.” Mandy already knew he was going to be off loading his work schedule onto other people and sending a minion on the hunt for a service specializing in handicap modifications that could come out and do the work today.Based on Ian’s business partners and staff, the house was already ADA friendly, but now that Mickey needed help, Ian was going to make 100% sure everything was perfect.She really did love the ginger idiot sometimes. “Thanks for doing this, Ian.”

He nodded at her, phone already to his ear.

Forty five more minutes passed during which time Mandy became more and more anxious.

They had told her it would take a while for Mickey to wake up from anesthesia, but surely he had to be awake by now.She was considering calling someone to complain when a very harried looking nurse burst through a door and asked,“Milkovich?”

“That’s us.”Again both Mandy and Ian leapt to their feet.

The nurse visibly slumped in relief.“Great, really great.Can you come with me?”

“Is something wrong?”Mandy asked.

The nurse held open the door for them as she replied, “Mickey’s waking up a little rough.He keeps hollering for someone called Ian, that’s you I hope?”

“Sure is.” Ian nodded.

The nurse took the lead down a series of corridors that all looked the same.“So what you’re going to see when we get there is a bunch of people trying to hold Mickey down.He’s just waking up and is confused about where he is and what we’re doing so he’s fighting.Young male patients tend to do this sometimes so it’s not unique or anything.It’s just that we don’t want him to hurt himself and we’re hoping if he sees you guys he will calm down, okay?”

Ian abruptly stopped walking.“That might have the opposite effect when he sees me.”

“Why?”The nurse asked.

“We had a fight.”Ian admitted, looking uncomfortable and a little sad.

The nurse came back and lightly grabbed Ian’s arm.“If seeing you does make it worse, we’ll take you back out to the waiting room, okay?”

Ian eyed her carefully for a moment and then agreed with a nod.

It was a long walk to the recovery room and they heard Mickey before they saw him.His words were slurred but Mandy could make out what he was saying easily enough. “Get the fuck off me!Lemme go!Ian!Where the fuck are you, you bastard?Get your fucking hands off me or I swear I’ll rip both your arms off and feed ‘em to you!”

“Holy shit.” Mandy exhaled.Hearing it, she could only imagine what the scene looked like.

“Yeah,” the nurse agreed, “it’s bad and there are 20 other patients in PACU listening to this.”

The nurse pushed open a door and the yelling got louder.As they rounded a corner they came upon a scene of four people trying to keep a wildly fighting Mickey in bed.Mandy, like all Milkoviches, wasn’t much for apologizing, but the words just started tumbling out of her mouth.“Oh, God.He has PTSD and...”

“That would have been good to know before now.”One of the women standing at the foot of the bed snapped.

Filled with nervous energy already, Mandy’s temper was hanging on by a thread.“Screw you lady!He doesn’t like to talk about it.”

Apparently the haughty bitch saw something in Mandy’s eyes that made her back peddle.“Sorry, it’s just knowing about his PTSD beforehand would have changed the medications I used to to anesthetize him.Like I never would have given him ketamine for one thing.”

Mandy nodded, understanding now why the other woman was upset.She was feeling guilty.Trying to ease the tension, Mandy shared her own experience with her brother on special K.“Always made him paranoid as fuck.He hates the stuff and I hate him on it.”

“Ian!”Mickey shouted again.

One of the people holding Mickey down turned towards Mandy.“Who’s Ian and can you call him or something?He’s really going to hurt himself if this keeps up.”

Immediately Ian was standing at the man’s shoulder.“I’m Ian.Can you let me in here?” 

The nurse didn’t let go of Mickey’s arm, but he did move down the bedside so Ian could get up near Mickey’s face. 

Ian reached out and brushed a lank strand of hair away from Mickey’s forehead.“Hey, Mickey.I’m here.”

Mickey’s wild, unfocused eyes landed on the red head.He blinked once, twice and then asked, “Ian?”

“Yeah, man.”Ian smiled.

Mickey frowned.“You left me.”

“I know.I wish to God I hadn’t, but I’m here now.”

Mickey seemed mesmerized for a moment and then one of the people holding him down changed their grip and he went back into fight mode.Struggling against the people restraining him Mickey shouted, “Get the fuck off me!”

“Mickey, look at me.” Ian said, leaning over the bed and forcing his way into Mickey’s line of sight.Someone tried to pull him back out of fist range, but he shrugged off the hand and reached out for Mickey’s cheek.Mickey’s eyes darted his way and held as Ian said, “You’re in the hospital.You’re just waking up from surgery.These people are trying to keep you safe.If you stop struggling they’ll let go, okay?”

It almost worked until once again, the same person who had hold of Mickey’s surgical leg shifted his grip and Mikey erupted again.“Not gonna go down without a fight, motherfuckers!”

Mandy pushed her way to the head of the bed opposite Ian.

Mickey was thrashing, trying to break free and shouting obscenities.Ian turned to the group and said, “The next time he calms down can you just let go of him, please?Please.I got this if you’ll just let go.” 

Looks were exchanged amongst the group until the anesthesia lady nodded.

Ian tried again.“Mickey? Mickey, look at me.”

Mickey stopped shouting and started looking at the faces around him.He was still struggling but there was less fight in it now.

“Over here.”Ian called, as he ran his hand down Mickey’s arm and took over from the nurse who was holding it down.As he gently entwined their fingers, Mickey’s gaze finally landed back on Ian.“That’s right.You’re okay.”

“Ian?”Mickey stopped struggling all together and leaned toward Ian.Ian used his free hand to gesture for the others to let go which they did though they all stayed close so they could jump back in if they had to.

“Yeah, it’s me.”Ian smiled and Mandy remembered this smile.It was pure love. 

“Are you real?”Mickey asked raising his free arm like he was going to try to touch Ian, but he couldn’t seem to get that far.

Ian did it for him raising their joined hands up high enough for Mickey to see.“Yep.Very real.See?”

Mickey pulled Ian’s hand down to his chest and cradled it.“Don’t ever leave me again.”

“I won’t, not even if you try to make me.”Mandy knew Ian meant it.

“Fuck you.You never keep your promises.”The words were growled out, but Mickey didn’t let go of Ian’s hand.

“I will this time.I love you, Mickey.” 

One night not long after Mickey had come to live with her in New York, Mandy got her brother shit faced drunk.He had been morose and withdrawn and she had run out of patience with his pity party.As she had hoped, all it took was a tiny mention of Ian to get Mickey to pour his heart out.Mickey had told her about the break up. How he had told Ian he loved him and immediately afterwards Ian broke up with him. He thought maybe Ian had never loved him. 

Mandy knew that wasn’t true, but she also knew Ian had never said the words to Mickey before now. 

“You’re just saying that.”Mickey accused, but his grip on Ian’s hand tightened.It was exactly the response Mandy expected.

Apparently Ian did, too.He put his other hand on top of Mickey’s.“I love you.I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

One of the staff members at bedside sighed, “God, I love love.”

Mickey apparently did not agree.His face fell and he finally pulled his hand away from Ian.In a near whisper he said, “I’m not worth it.”

Mandy had never thought she would hear Mickey say those words though she had always known he thought them.All the Milkovich kids thought the same.Terry had made sure of it.

Ian reached out and gently grabbed Mickey’s face with both hands forcing blue eyes to meet green.Staring intently into Mickey’s eyes Ian replied, “You’re worth everything.You are my everything.”

“I hate you right now.”

Ian smiled.“I know.”

“You’re a bastard.” 

Ian’s smile grew wider.“True, in both senses of the word.”

Mickey pulled his face out of Ian’s hands and laid back on the bed with his eyes closed.“You left me to rot in there.”

Ian resumed holding Mickey’s hand.He briefly glanced around at the group of people who were no longer there to restrain a patient but instead to listen to what Mandy agreed was a very juicy display of love and contrition. No one flinched or looked at all inclined to leave as Ian’s eyes passed over them.Ian sighed in apparent acceptance of the situation, took a deep breath and said, “I was an asshole going through some shit of my own, Mickey.No excuses though.What I did to you was terrible.I thought I was protecting you from me, but all I really did was hurt you and I am sorrier than you can imagine.”

“That must be really fucking sorry, ‘cause I can imagine a lot.”Mickey replied.He was starting to sound sleepy.

“I know.” Ian leaned forward and brushed his lips against Mickey’s forehead.

‘Fucker.”

Ian laughed.“Love you.”

“Hate you.”

“Close enough, Mickey.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...if anyone was wondering I work in PACU and have seen things like this first hand. Young male patients can wake up swinging. PTSD just makes it worse.
> 
> 2/27/2020


	4. 4. McMansion?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Co-habitation ensues...

“Hey there. Look who’s awake.Remember me? I’m Bailey, your nurse.”

Mickey blinked at her.She was a pretty, petite blonde who looked to be about his age.She had been his nurse last night and had explained everything that would happen today.“Hospital.Hip surgery.Right.”

She smiled.“Correct.Thirsty?”

His mouth was dry as the Sahara desert.It was hard to talk with his tongue feeling like sandpaper.“Hell yeah.”

“I’ll be right back with some ice chips, okay?”

“Thanks.Is Mandy around?”He called before the door closed.

Bailey poked her head back in.“Your sister went home to get some stuff.Your boyfriend is in the waiting room on the phone.He didn’t want to wake you.”

“My boyfriend?”Mickey asked.Damn Mandy if she had done what he thought she did.

“Yeah, the tall, hot redhead?”

She did.“Fuck.”

Bailey smiled at him.“Well if you don’t want him, point him in my direction, would you?Is he bi? Because I’d kill to have someone love me like he loves you.”

“He doesn’t, not really.”Mickey grumbled.

The nurse stepped back into the room and crossed her arms over her chest.Ian must have been working his charms on her since she was obviously on his side already.“Well, he’s been by your side since you freaked out in the recovery room.They told me in report you calmed down the moment you saw him.You’ve been pretty out of it all day and he’s been here holding your hand and whispering to you to make sure you were able to rest.I see tons of couples in this job. What you two have sure looks like love to me.”

Mickey sighed in response.He didn’t have the energy or will to argue.

Bailey stood staring at him for a moment and then with a snort, left the room.

Ian made a great first impression and he was very good at dramatic gestures.None of this was about Mickey though.It had never really been about him.It was about how Ian felt and what Ian needed.Mickey didn’t know what the ginger menace wanted now, but he knew who would get screwed in the end.So yeah, Ian was here and he was holding hands and fluffing pillows and shit, but it wouldn’t last.

Mickey would not share these thoughts.He just waited for Bailey to come back with the ice chips. Not long after she returned, and his thirst was sated, Mickey let himself drift back off to sleep. 

The next time Mickey woke, Ian was there.He had pulled a chair up to the bedside and sat slumped against the mattress, clearly asleep.He had Mickey’s hand in his.

Mickey withdrew his hand and looked around the room.For the first time all day it wasn’t spinning.

There was an ache in his hip and his tongue was so dry it was sticking to the roof of his mouth, but his head felt clearer.He was still very sleepy, but awake enough to know he needed to pee. 

Probably shouldn’t try to get up.He had been in hospitals often enough to know they wanted him to use the call light to get someone to come help him, but he really didn’t want that cute little nurse from earlier anywhere near his dick.

Maybe she would just give him a urinal and go?

She would wake Ian though.What time was it anyway?

Mickey looked around for his phone and found it on the bedside table.Mandy had called twice and Svetlana once.

It was 5:45 pm.

He wondered where Mandy was.

There was a brief knock on the door before it opened and a tech pushed her way in with a rolling vital signs machine.“Oh good.You’re awake.”

“Shh.He isn’t.”Mickey whispered, protecting Ian’s sleep because he did not want to deal with the ginger menace yet.

She smiled and whispered back, “God, you two are so sweet.It’s time for your evening vitals.”

Mickey wanted to snap at the girl for assuming they were a couple, but he didn’t have the energy to explain they weren’t.It would be better if she just got her job done and left.“Fine.”

He allowed her to go through her routine and was told at the end that everything was normal.

Just as the tech was leaving Mandy walked in.“Hey shit stain, you’re awake.”

“Shh.He’s sleeping.”He gestured to Ian and wondered when exactly his hand had found it’s way into red hair.Pulling his hand back he glared at Mandy and whispered, “Why is he here?”

She rolled her eyes at him.“Like you aren’t secretly glad he is.”

No, Mickey was pretty sure he was in no way happy to have Ian in his hospital room, but he also knew if he pushed it, Mandy could and would make the situation much more awkward.He changed the subject.“Why is everyone so surprised I’m awake?”

“Because you’ve been out of it like all day, that’s why.”Mandy was the second person to tell him that so far.Even the tech had looked surprised to find him awake.

Mandy sat down in a chair under the window and quietly said, “Svetlana is on her way.”

“The fuck for?”Mickey asked.He was not in the mood for his ex-wife and, truth be told, he did not want Yevgeny to see him like this.

“So Yev can see his Papa and know he’s okay.”

Exactly what Mickey wanted to avoid.“Why the hell did she tell him in the first place?”

“Because when he comes to see you on Saturday he’s going to know something is wrong and he’ll feel like you lied to him.”

“Fuck.”Mickey conceded.He had not thought how Yevgeny would feel if he found out his papa had kept a secret.It might destroy the fragile trust between them.

Ian took that moment to wake up.As he sat up Mickey’s rebellious hand slipped off his head and landed in a flaccid heap on the bed in the tiny spot of drool Ian left behind.Ian was smiling at him as he ran a hand through his hair to smooth it.“Hey, Mickey.I must have fallen asleep.Sorry about that.”

“You can go home now, Gallagher.”Mickey growled.From the way both Ian and Mandy were staring at him he had a feeling something had happened that he was not remembering and probably did not want to remember.Bailey’s words from earlier about the recovery room were enough.

Ian ignored him and asked Mandy, “Has Svet come by yet?”

“Not yet.She’s on her way.”

“You’re staying the night here, right?”Ian asked.

Mandy patted the big bag she had brought in with her.“Yeah.I want to be here when Dr. Gonzalez stops by in the morning.” 

“I’ll wait for Svetlana and Yev and then I’m out.Got stuff to do tonight, but I’ll be back in the morning so you can go take your exam in peace, okay?”

Mickey was tired of them talking like he was not there.“No, not okay.Go the fuck home and stay there.”

Before Ian could respond the door slammed open and Yevgeny shouted, “Papa!”

A restraining hand shot out as Svetlana entered the room right behind her son.“Gently, Yevgeny!Do not jump on Papa.Sit in Ian’s lap.”

“Mama, why?”The little boy whined.Ian’s face fell a little and Mickey took vicious delight in it.

Yevgeny was staring at him, like Mickey was supposed to answer instead of Svetlana, so he did.He tried to pull himself up a little in the bed and winced at the pain that shot down his right leg at the movement.“Cause I had surgery today, little man.You gotta be gentle with people after surgery.”

“Why?”

“Because surgery hurts and if you’re too rough it hurts even more.”Ian explained as he helped the little boy into his lap so Yevgeny was closer to his father.

“Why?”

“Because the doctor took out papa’s hip joint.” Svetlana said and touched her own hip to show Yevgeny where.“And he puts in new one.It hurts very much and takes long time to heal.”

Yevgeny turned concerned blue eyes on Mickey.“Do you hurt, Papa?”

Mickey had to swallow a lump in his throat before he could speak so once again Ian answered for him.“Your Papa’s a tough guy.He’ll be fine as long as we’re gentle, Yev.”

“Okay.”Yevgeny replied as he started to pet his hand very softly back and forth over Mickey’s forearm.“Am I gentle enough, Papa?”

And now Mickey could add blinking back tears to the list of overly emotional responses he was having today.He blamed the anesthesia as he choked out, “Yeah, kid.You’re good.”

Svetlana took a seat on the windowsill and studied him carefully.“You look like shit.”

“Feel like it, too.”Mickey agreed, flipping her the bird.

“They let you out tomorrow?”

“He’s going for a walk in the morning and if that goes well, yeah. Home tomorrow.”Mandy supplied.

“I see.This is good.”Svetlana nodded and then turned to look at Ian.Mickey followed her gaze.Ian looked tired. She made a shooing motion at him. “You go home.Do not forget pills.”

“I never do.”Ian grumbled as he gathered up his phone and its charger.

Svetlana smirked.“Because I remind you.”

“Whatever.”

The banter continued between his visitors for a while, but Mickey could not really focus on it.He still needed to pee and some water would be nice, but he did not want to disturb his son’s gentle petting of his arm.

Bailey rescued him a few moments later with a huge mug of ice water in one hand and a urinal in the other.She greeted everyone and made some small talk before she put her foot down.“We don’t have visiting hours, but it’s been a really long day for Mickey.I know you’re staying with him tonight,” She gestured toward Mandy, “but the rest of you need to let our hero get some rest.Is that okay, little man?”

“What’s that?”Yevgeny pointed to the urinal.

“It’s for people who need to stay in bed, but also need to pee.I bet your dad really needs this now, so lets give him some privacy, okay?”

“Love you, Papa.” Yevgeny said as he climbed over the bed rail to kiss Mickey’s cheek.“See you tomorrow?”

Mickey looked to Svetlana who nodded.“Yeah, buddy.I’ll see you tomorrow.”

It took a minute to gather up bags and convince Yevgeny to let go of Mickey’s hand, but eventually everyone was gone. 

Bailey said, “I also have your pain pills.Can we get those in first, please?”

“Yeah.”She did the computer scanning stuff and handed over two hydrocodone and the mug of water which Mickey gladly accepted.The urinal followed.

“Are you hungry?”

“No, just need to piss.”Mickey replied already digging under the covers and trying to get the hospital gown out of his way.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it then.Use your call light if you need anything, okay?Your nurse tonight is going to be the same as last night.”

“Kristen?”He asked, not sure he was remembering right and not really caring.He wanted Bailey to hurry up and leave so he could piss in peace.

“She’ll be flattered you remembered and disappointed as hell to hear you have a boyfriend.”With that Bailey left and Mickey was finally able to relieve his aching bladder.

He fell asleep shortly after.

***

“Rise and shine, douche bag!” Mandy shouted jolting Mickey out of his slumber. “Bailey just poked her head in and Dr. Gonzalez has started rounding.He should be here soon so they want you to walk and see how you do.The physical therapist and nurse will be back any minute to get you up.”

Mickey had always been a light, one eye open sort of sleeper and prison had only made it worse.It was usually alright if he woke up naturally, but when someone or something woke him, his immediate response was fight or flight.It took a second for his heart to stop pounding and the adrenaline to subside.

She waited him out, taking a seat on the pullout chair she had slept in.

“Need coffee.”He finally managed to croak.He also needed to pee again.

Mandy seemed to understand.“I’ll go get you some so you can take care of business while I’m gone.”

The walking was humiliating.He only made 50 steps and he had to do them with a walker and someone holding onto a belt circling his middle so they could hold him up if he stumbled.It hurt like hell with every step, but it was a different kind of pain than before. 

By the time he made it back to his bed he was exhausted.Bailey and Marge, the physical therapist, assured him he had done very well.

Dr. Gonzalez was also pleased.He took the dressing off and looked at Mickey’s incision.“You’re good to go, Mickey.I’m going to send you home with antibiotics and five days of Norco which I suggest you take regularly for at least the next three days.Pick up some Colace, which is over the counter, since the Norco will make you constipated.”

Yep, Mickey remembered.

“Bailey will give you the Do’s and Don’t’s okay?The joint is good, but the muscles are pretty torn up.Normally I’d tell you the only real restrictions are if it hurts too much, don’t do it.However, because I had to do a lot of work where that pin was, I’m going to send you home with the same instructions I would for a posterior incision.If it’s going to bend your knees further than 90 degrees do not sit there. Don’t bend over at the waist to pick anything up.Use your arms to help you sit up from a laying down position, not your abs.Do not lean forward further than 30 degrees, so no elbows on knees to watch TV or whatever. 

Do not try to walk without the walker until PT gives you the all clear for crutches or a cane and then use that until they tell you you can stop.Now, the part you young stallions hate to hear: no sex.None.Nada.At least until after I see you in a week.”Dr. Gonzalez said with a teasing smile that wilted when his eyes met Mickey’s. 

He cleared his throat and continued in a much more clinical fashion, “If there is any drainage, don’t care what color, from the incision site call my office.If the incision gets red, puffy, or swollen call my office.If you start running a fever greater than 100.5 call my office.Bailey will give you the rest of the information before you leave, okay?”

Mickey and Mandy nodded. 

“Oh, no showering or bathing.Sponge baths only until I see you again in the office to take out the stitches. Last thing, you seem like a very independent kind of guy, but let your sister and boyfriend help you, okay?”

“Yeah.”Mickey agreed because he was very, very ready to get out of the hospital and into his own bed.He had no intention of allowing Ian anywhere near him and Mandy only if he was desperate.

Dr. Gonzalez seemed to read his mind.“I want to hear you say it, Mickey.”

“Yeah, yeah.Fine.” Mickey rolled his eyes.“I don’t want to do this again, so yeah, if I need help I’ll ask for it.”

“Good.See you in a week.”

***

Ian turned up at the same time Bailey came in to go over the discharge instructions.The prescriptions had already been called in to the pharmacy so all they had to do was pick them up.That turned out to be the easy part.

Next she started going over the very long list of things he was not allowed to do.When she got to stairs, Mickey’s heart sank and his gaze shot over to Mandy.He took in her guilty expression and then looked to Ian who was wearing his subtlest possible version of the chin.

In that instant Mickey knew what they had done.“You two just decided without asking me?”

Mandy tried to explain, “Obviously our apartment is out.I tried the hotel, but it doesn’t have any rooms I could have for a week.Svetlana can’t.We considered a rehab...”

“That sounds good.”Mickey snapped.He was not staying at Ian’s.

She continued like he never interrupted her.“...But figured that was too expensive since insurance wouldn’t cover it given how young and healthy you are.”

“Fuck!” 

Mandy was undeterred.In a reasonable tone Mickey knew she was using only because Bailey was still in the room, she continued, “I couldn’t get off work or out of school, so Ian rearranged his schedule so he can be with you when I’m not.” 

“At Gallagher’s place.”Mickey clarified, not that he really needed to.They had already decided this for him.

“Yeah.”Mandy replied, and though there was an ‘I’m sorry’ in her tone, her expression was defiant, like she was daring him to try and fight her.

Ian took up promoting the benefits of staying at his place.“No stairs, well, actually there are a ton of stairs, but also an elevator so, there’s that.I’ve had a guy out there since yesterday making sure everything is good before you get there.I also got all your favorite foods...”

“I’m not going.”Mickey said, because he would rather live in a cardboard box than stay even a second in Ian’s McMansion.

Mandy sighed.“The alternative is a rehab.Paying out of pocket, which you would have to do, rehab is almost a grand per day, Mickey.”

“Fuck you both.”Mickey growled, well aware he could not afford rehab and that he was being manipulated based on that fact.He wondered for a split second if Ian would pay for rehab if he asked, but fuck that.He had never begged Ian for anything but his love and the redhead was a stingy bitch, even with that.Mickey would not ask and Ian would not offer because why would he?Having Mickey trapped under his roof was probably making the ginger asshole’s day.

They all fell silent.Mickey because he was struggling to admit defeat, Mandy and Ian because they knew they had won.Bailey looked around the group and cleared her throat, “So, can I keep going now that that’s settled?”

“Yeah, fine.Whatever.” Mickey growled out.

A short time later Mickey was dressed in loose fitting sweatpants and a long sleeved tee shirt sitting in a wheelchair waiting for the car.

As a portent of things to come, the ‘car’ was really a handicap van that could take thewheelchair straight in.Ian had rented it for the week in case Mickey wanted to get out of the house.Of fucking course he had.

The ride to Ian’s house was silent which suited Mickey just fine.He was pissed and the only spark of joy in the whole fucking thing was that both of his tormentors knew it.

It turned out Ian’s house couldn’t really be called a McMansion.It was a six story brownstone in the Upper East Side within walking distance from Central Park. It was fucking beautiful, had a prominently displayed Historic Home marker and Mickey could only imagine how many millions it had set the ginger idiot back when he bought it.

There were stairs up to a gorgeous Art Deco door.There was a ramp that lead down to the basement from the left, under the stairs to a another door. Before Mickey could wonder about the extra entrance, Ian explained, “Claymore has a lot of wheelchair bound employees.Had to add the ramp in consideration of the company parties.”

“Wasn’t that nice of you.”Mickey sneered.He wasn’t sure why it pissed him off but it did.It actually was nice of Ian to think through the needs of his staff.Never mind it was weird Ian had staff, or a mansion, or millions or...

Ian went on like he didn’t hear him as he pushed Mickey’s wheelchair down the ramp and through the oversized door.“This is the basement but nothing much is down here other than a catering kitchen, laundry room, wine cellar and some storage.Here’s the elevator.”

Nothing much to see was a fucking lie.Ian’s basement was far nicer than anywhere Mickey had ever been.It was light and bright in spite of being a basement.Ian pushed his wheelchair through the space to the elevator with Mandy hot on his heels.

“It’s not one of those super little ones.”Mandy observed as they all fit into the elevator easily.

“No, when I remodeled I got an office sized one since I feel claustrophobic in the smaller ones and I wanted one that was easily accessible.It also makes it easier to move stuff around.”

Maybe it was nerves, but Ian kept rambling on about the house as the elevator started to move.“I’ve got both of you on the fourth floor.There’s four bedrooms, but I put Mandy at the front of the house and you at the back.Figured it might be a little quieter and it has a walk in shower.I’m on the third floor.Second floor is the kitchen and living room room.First floor is entertaining space and the dining room plus access out to the courtyard garden.The fifth floor has four more bedrooms.The sixth floor has a cinema, more entertaining space and access to the roof top pool and terrace.”

“Jesus, this place is fucking huge.”Mandy breathed as they arrived on the fourth floor. 

Ian ignored the comment and continued.“Your timing was perfect.The remodel was only completed two weeks ago.I literally just moved in.”

As he pushed Mickey’s wheelchair out of the elevator on the fourth floor, he pointed down the hallway to the right.“So Mandy, that’s you, or you can pick one of the other rooms if you prefer.I just figured it would be better if you were on the same floor as Mickey.”

Mandy set off to select a bedroom and Ian pushed Mickey’s chair down the hall in the opposite direction. 

“This one is your room, Mickey.”The door pushed open to reveal a bright, airy space with a view of the tops of the surrounding buildings and a few leaves from a treetop that were starting to change color.There was no rug, just beautifully polished hardwood floors in a herringbone pattern.The bed was queen sized with an ornate headboard and blue bedding.There were two large abstract paintings that brought pops of vivid color to the otherwise white, blue and gray space.“What do you think?”

It had just taken over for the basement as the nicest place Mickey had seen in his entire life, but it felt more like he imagined a five star hotel room would be than a bedroom in someone’s house.It felt remote and impersonal and that suited Mickey just fine.

Ian seemed determined to fill any and all silences and kept going with his descriptions. “It’s an orthopedic mattress so the head and feet go up and down if you want them to.”

Something in the way Ian said it made Mickey aware the bed was a special thing.Who put a bed like this in a room that would rarely be used anyway?Then in clicked.“All this for me?”

“Well, yeah.” Ian shrugged, scrubbing a hand over the back of his head sheepishly.“It wasn’t a big deal. I have the same mattress in my room.I just sent the one I originally bought back and replaced it with this.”

“Thanks, I guess.What’s all that stuff?”Mickey pointed to a neatly stacked pile of boxes in a corner.

“Medical supplies.Whatever the home health nurse said you needed.”

“You got a nurse?”Mickey asked, not sure how he felt about that if Ian had. 

Again Ian shrugged.“I consulted one and if you prefer, I’ll bring her in, but from the instructions Bailey gave us it didn’t seem like anything we couldn’t handle ourselves.”

Mickey would think about it.Staying rent free in Ian’s house was one thing.Letting Ian pay for additional stuff bothered him.On the one hand he could claim this as something Ian owed him after five and a half years in prison for a crime committed on Ian’s behalf.On the other, Mickey wanted nothing from Ian. 

Mickey wondered how much the nurse would cost and if he could afford to hire her himself.Bailey’s instructions were very clear about what he could and could not do for himself and there was some very humiliating shit in his immediate future.Mandy really didn’t need to be subjected to bodily functions and even though Ian was intimately familiar with his ass, Mickey still didn’t want him helping him take a shit.

Apparently finally at a loss for words, Ian asked, “Do you want to go see more of the house or go to bed?”

“I’m wiped, man.”Mickey admitted.All he really wanted was some pain medicine, a nap and for Ian to go away.

Ian made a beeline for the pile of boxes. “Hang on, let me find the walker.There’s one of those belt things too somewhere.”

Mickey made a strangling gesture at Ian’s back.“Gallagher.” 

“Just give me a second.”

“Or you could help me stand up, pivot and get in the bed.”Mickey said rolling the wheelchair up right next to the bed because at least that much he could do by himself.

“What?”Ian asked over his shoulder.

“Let’s not make this more of a production than it already is. Stand, pivot, sit, lay down.It’s not fucking rocket science.” 

Ian rolled his eyes and moved over to stand in front of Mickey. All Mickey needed was an arm to pull himself up with, but Ian lifted Mickey out of the chair and off his feet entirely. 

Unprepared for the chest to chest contact, or the heady scent of memory lurking under the spicy goodness of Ian’s cologne, Mickey immediately started struggling.“Put me the fuck down, you asshole.What part of stand and pivot did you not understand?”

Ian put him down on the side of the bed and huffed, “What?You’re on the bed.Let me...”

“Don’t fucking touch me, I got it.”Mickey growled as Ian started to reach for him again. 

He could lift his own legs onto the bed damn it...or maybe not.It hurt like a son of a bitch to lift the right leg. 

When he gave up trying Ian shot him a look that Mickey interpreted as ‘I told you so’.Mickey waved an annoyed hand in Ian’s direction.“Yeah, yeah.”

Ian put his arm under Mickey’s legs and lifted them up, turning his body so he was laying properly in the bed.Ian then stood back to inspect his work.“You know what the sad part about this is?By the time we figure out how to do this right, we won’t need to do it anymore.”

Mandy took that moment to wander into the room.“Comfy?”

“Yeah, just peachy.”Mickey snarked, wishing Mandy would leave and take Ian with her. 

Mandy gave the room a once over, and frowned.“Where’s the kitchen again?I’m going to get Mickey some water.”

“Second floor.”Ian replied.

“Thanks.”

When Ian just stood there, not talking but also not following Mandy out of the room, Mickey asked, “The fuck you waiting for?An eviction notice?Get the fuck out.”

“Mickey...”

“No.”Mickey cut him off.He wanted to tell Ian he never wanted to talk to him again, never wanted to see him, but what came out was a limp excuse for being rude.“I’m gonna take a nap.”

***

“The fuck you need such a big house for?”Mickey asked when Ian poked his head in to check on him after dinner which Mickey had not had an appetite for.While he didn’t really want to talk to Ian, Mickey had been wondering about the sheer size of the place since the van had pulled up outside Ian’s brownstone.

Ian grinned and entered the room.“I don’t, but it’s sort of expected now, I guess.My last place was just a rental, you know, in case the other shoe dropped and Claymore tanked or something.”

Like that was going to happen.Claymore was rapidly becoming one of the biggest gaming companies in the US.However, Mickey could understand how Ian would fail to believe his own good fortune.Where they grew up good things were illusions only idiots and dreamers fell for.

“I was looking at apartments when this house came on the market.My realtor mentioned it was available and after she gave me the backstory I had to buy it.It was basically condemned, but I could see what it was and what it could be again.This was a total remodel down to the studs.”

Something about Ian’s tone made Mickey want to know more.“What’s the backstory?”

Ian took a seat on the foot of the bed opposite Mickey.“This place was built in 1922 by Roland Bates for his lover James Kirkland.”

“Huh.”Mickey grunted trying to imagine what it must have been like to be gay way back then.

“Yeah, I know, right?Anyway, things were pretty good for them until the crash of 1929 when Bates lost everything.His one remaining asset was this house which was held in Kirkland’s name.Together they converted it into an apartment building so Bates could start to rebuild.The Bates family lived on the second floor and Kirkland lived on the third.They all lived here until 1948 when Bates died and his wife took their kids and moved back with her parents.Kirkland continued to live here until he died in 1964.

It was sold and continued on as an apartment building. It did fine for a while, but when the asbestos laws were enacted it made upgrades and remodeling too expensive so the building fell into disrepair.A tenant sued in 2008 and the court ordered the building repaired, but due to asbestos and lead, the owner couldn’t afford to do it.More lawsuits followed and the building ended up changing hands.Then there was a fire, more lawsuits and the building ended up empty and condemned.

In 2015 when the markets were up the owners tried to sell it as a tear down, but by then a book of letters between Kirkland and Bates had been published and a gay rights group latched onto the house for it’s symbolism.To keep it from being torn down, the group fought in the courts to have it deemed a historic building.With the help of neighbors who didn’t want apartments on their street, they won.It meant not only could it not be torn down, it had to be reverted to a single family residence which it historically had been.”

Mickey didn’t know much about real estate, but he did know the Upper East Side was hellishly expensive.Apartment buildings were gold in an area like this and the rents would be incredible.The cost difference between a six unit apartment building versus a single family house would be huge. “So the owner got screwed.” 

“Totally.It ended up repossessed by the bank and put back on the market just as I started looking. My realtor told me the story about Kirkland and Bates.I bought the book and, damn you should really read it.It’s a beautiful story.I had to save the house and restore it to its former glory.”

“So this is literally a gay love nest.”Mickey said, a small, unwanted smile on his lips.Ian was so clearly in love with his house.

“Yep.The master bedroom is on the third floor where Kirkland’s was.”

Mickey wondered who Ian had had in mind when he bought this place.Ian had not mentioned a boyfriend, but the redhead hated being alone so there had to be someone.“Thanks for the bedtime story, Gallagher.Now fuck off and let me sleep.”


	5. 5. Platonic Love Triangle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things that have gone unspoken are said aloud.

When Mickey woke up it was still dark outside.He was ravenously hungry.He also needed to pee.Fuck his fucking bladder.

He turned on the bedside light and discovered the walker was over by the bathroom and the wheelchair was by the door.Damn it.

He used the bed controls to sit the bed up.The movement hurt, a sharp pulling pain on the side of his hip that was so bad he didn’t even feel the incision.He sucked in a breath and waited for it to pass. 

There was water and his pill bottles on the bedside table.Oh, thank God, there was a urinal there as well.

He pissed the bottle nearly full which was a huge relief.Then he took his pills.

Now his only problem was his stomach.

He checked his phone.It was almost six am.Mandy was never up this early, but Ian used to get up at the ass crack of dawn so he could get in a run first thing in the morning.

As Mickey debated the merits of trying to get Ian’s attention versus waiting until the moron woke up and checked on him (as he inevitably would) the afore mentioned moron poked his head in.

“I noticed the light on and wanted to see if you needed anything before I went for my run.”

“You just happened to see the light?” Mickey rolled his eyes.Ian was an entire floor below.He had to have been hanging out on the landing or maybe he slept in one of the fourth floor bedrooms.

“I came up here to make sure you didn't need anything before I went for my run.”Ian repeated slower as if Mickey was the weird one not understanding what was going on.

Which might be right.Mickey rolled his eyes again, but it was himself he was doing it at.Fine, Ian was just doing that thoughtfully predictive shit he was so good at.“Actually, I’m fucking starving, man.”

“Oh, of course.Sure.I can make you some pancakes if you want.”Ian offered, smiling.

“Maybe after your run.”

“Nah, you slept through lunch and dinner last night.I can run later.One order of pancakes coming right up.”Ian backed out of the room and then popped back in.“Anything else you need before I disappear in the kitchen?”

“Nope.”

“Let me empty that real quick.” Ian walked in and picked up the urinal, heading for the bathroom Mickey hadn’t seen yet.That was fucking embarrassing, watching Ian carrying a big jug of his pee.

He heard the toilet flush and then Ian came back with the empty urinal which he put back on the bedside table on top of a hand towel.Ian stepped back and scratched the back of his head.“Ethan installed the AI system we have at work, but I don’t think it’s working.I’ll call him later so he can figure out what’s wrong with it, okay?For now just call or text me.”

“I don’t have your number.”

“Oh, right.I don’t have yours either.Can I?”Ian held out his hand for Mickey’s phone.

Mickey was reluctant to hand it over.In months past not having Ian’s number had been a God send.There had been many drunken or panicked moments where all he wanted was to hear Ian’s voice.If he had the redhead’s number, there was no way he would be able to restrain himself.Not in those freaked out moments.Maybe he could just delete it when this ordeal was over.Yeah, he would just delete it.He held out his phone. “Here.”

After Ian returned the phone and left to make breakfast, Mickey had to look.Ian saved himself as ‘fire crotch’ like it had been all those years ago. 

Mickey was still staring at his phone thinking when Mandy walked in wearing nothing but a tee shirt and a smile.“How are you feeling, Mickey?”

Mickey put his phone on the bedside table.“Okay.Stiff and sore, but okay.”

“How’s your head?”She asked twisting a lock of hair in her hand and sitting on the side of the bed near him.

Mickey cocked his head and raised an eyebrow, not rising to the obvious.

She rolled her eyes and lightly slapped him.“Fuck off.I mean, you’re not feeling fuzzy or anything, right?”

“Why?”

“I have an accounting test due today.I thought maybe you could help me.”

Mickey rubbed his hands together like a comic book villain.“Why would I? What do I get in return?”

“A grateful sister who will owe you one.”

“You already owe me one for making me stay here.”More than one, Mickey thought. This was pretty much the last place he wanted to be.

“Whatever, Mickey.You know you’re secretly glad you’re here.You can thank me later.I expect to be toasted at your wedding, ass wipe.”

“You don’t...”

“I understand, Mickey, I do.He broke your heart.I get it.So does he.”

Countless conversations had started like this.They never went anywhere since even drunk Mickey just could not do it.He did not have the energy or the words to make Mandy understand so he always shut the conversation down before it could really get started. 

Even if somehow he and Ian could move beyond the breakup mess and abandonment, Mickey was not the man he had been.Way too much had happened in the six years he and Ian had been apart.For Mickey there could be no going back to the way things used to be.All he could hope for was a life where Ian being there or not being there didn’t fucking matter.“If you really understood, you wouldn’t have brought me here.”

“Mickey, I didn’t have a choice.Besides, Ian loves you. And I know you love him, too, even if you really wish you didn’t. Why are you fighting it so hard?Jesus, give in already.”

“He never loved me.”Mickey snarled, because if he had Ian would not have left him.This was the farthest this conversation had ever gone.Maybe it was the meds or the after effects of anesthesia, but the usual gut clench that came with talking about Ian fucking Gallagher and love did not come.Anger came instead.He had been through so much, lost so much and no one seemed to care.They just wanted Ian’s precious feelings to be spared.Fuck Ian and fuck Mandy for siding with him.

“So we’re finally going to talk about this.Awesome.” Mandy snarled right back, poking Mickey hard in the chest.“What I know is Ian left you because he loves you, dickhead.”

“How the fuck does that make any sense?”

“Monica.”Mandy said, like that name explained everything.

Mickey rolled his eyes.He already knew it was Monica, that wasn’t fucking news.Ian had freaked out trying to deny he was sick or anything like his mother.He resented Mickey for treating him like a mental patient and worrying so much he turned into a nursemaid.Ian had said as much when they broke up.Mickey remembered the dead look in Ian’s eyes and the total lack of emotion. 

He told Ian he loved him and Ian broke up with him.

If that had not been clear enough, Ian’s handful of visits to him in prison had put the final nail in the coffin of their relationship.Svetlana paid Ian to come the last time.It hurt like hell to think about, but Mickey dug the memory up every so often to remind himself why he had to stay away from the ginger menace.

Fuck Mandy for always taking Ian’s side and for making Mickey feel like he was the one who was wrong. 

“Pancakes!” Ian singsonged as he walked into the room bringing the scents of coffee, maple syrup and bacon with him.“Oh hey, Mandy.Didn’t know you were up.”

“Morning, sunshine.Just talking to my idiot brother.” She jumped off the bed and kissed Ian’s cheek before turning back to Mickey with her hands on her hips and a hard look in her eyes.“So, you gonna help me with this test today or what?”

“No.” 

“You’re such a dick.”Mandy whined.

“Bite me.”Mickey flipped her off and turned his head away from her effectively shutting her out.He was done talking to his sister.

Ian either didn’t notice or didn’t care about the tension between the siblings.Instead he placed the tray of food over Mickey’s lap and stepped back. 

He looked like he might say something but Mandy beat him to it asking, “Ian, is there more where that came from?” 

“Yeah.” 

“I’m gonna go eat then.Later, douche bags.”She flipped them the bird with both hands and left the room.

Ian sighed.“Your sister is charming.”

“Your best friend is charming.”Mickey snapped back around a forkful of pancakes. 

“Guess I’ll go for that run now.”Ian’s voice was tight and his eyes down cast.

Mickey saw Ian’s expression but did not care.In fact, he did not care about anything but stuffing himself with pancakes and bacon.“You do that, princess.”

Ian inhaled and to Mickey’s ears it was sound of impending conversation.He just wanted to eat his breakfast in peace.With a sigh he said, “No.I know you wanna talk and I know you figure now I’m stuck here I have no choice, but I do and I am exercising my right to fucking silence, got it?”

“I was just going to ask if you needed anything before I left.”

Mickey did not believe him for a second.“Fuck off with that bullshit.”

“Yeah, I’m an asshole.I fucked up.I get it.You’re angry.I get that, too.And you’re right, there’s a lot I’d like to say, but fuck you for thinking I’d take advantage of you like that.I never made you do anything you didn’t want to do...”

Mickey was suddenly so angry he spit out his pancakes so he could shout, “Right!Like I wanted to worry about your ass for three fucking months while you were going AWOL and sucking dick for drug money.Because I wanted to come out to my fucking dad at my kid’s christening.‘You’re not free Mickey.’Fuck you!I wanted to call you a million times with no answer when you took my fucking kid on a fucking joy ride and, once again, sucked dick while my kid waited alone in a hot car.I wanted to turn into your God damn nursemaid.I wanted you to fucking disappear again so I could make another million unanswered phone calls.Oh, and I really, really wanted you to reappear so you could decide, for me, that you weren’t good for me because you’re the new fucking Monica or some shit.Then five and a half years in prison on a bullshit charge because of your sister where my own fucking dad almost kills me four times. Oh yeah, you’ve never made me do anything I didn’t fucking want to do.” Vitriol spent Mickey fell back on the pillows and quietly ended with, “Go to hell, Gallagher.”

“I...wow.” And Ian didn’t say anything else.He just stared out the window taking deep, slow breaths. 

Mickey didn’t care.All of those things were true and the truth hurt.So fucking what.He picked up his fork and resumed eating his pancakes with a vengeance.

After a long moment Ian turned with military precision and walked out the door closing it gently behind him.

***

The pancakes were not sitting well in Mickey’s stomach.

He tried to distract himself with television, but his mind kept going back to the fight with Ian.

The house was dead silent without the TV on which was sort of spooky.Mickey was used to the constant din of prison.This house could be out in the deep woods it was so damn quiet.He didn’t like it.

Tired of being alone, he texted Mandy. 

//R u still at the house?//

The bubbles indicating she was typing appeared, disappeared and then reappeared, a sure sign she was pissed.If she were not angry a simple yes or no would have sufficed.

Finally she replied.//What do u need?//

//Bored// Mickey typed back.

Her reply was immediate.//Not my problem//

//U pissed about ur test?//

//B-// Was her reply.Mickey has known she would pass.For the past six months he had watched her whine about failing something she was studying her ass off for only to pass it with flying colors.

//U pissed about Ian?//

The bubbles appeared and disappeared several times before he finally got, //Fuck off//

Yep, definitely pissed about Ian.

Mandy was the only one of his siblings Mickey really gave a shit about, but that didn’t mean they had been close growing up.Mickey and his brothers had been her defenders when she asked, but Mickey had never been very involved in her life.

That had changed since he got out of prison. 

Living together without the constant threat of violence had helped.Having jobs that allowed them entry into the middle class had helped. It removed the financial pressure Terry had used to divide them against each other while uniting them to himself.

The only hitch in their brother-sister bonding was Mandy’s relationship with Ian. 

At first Mandy tried to talk to Mickey about Ian, but after a while she learned not to bring him up.Mickey assumed that was hard for her since Ian was her best friend, but it was hard for him, too. 

Mickey had never had friends or confidants, not until Ian.Then prison had forced Mickey to eventually replace the man who abandoned him with a head shrinker, Dr. Mohammed.It had taken nearly a year to trust the doctor enough to kinda, sorta talk to.When he got out, Dr. Mohammed was gone. 

All that was left was Mandy, but they had never been close and she had Ian.

It was like a weird, mostly platonic, love triangle.

It would be nice if at least once Mandy chose him over Ian, but she never did.

Ian had been there for her when Mickey had not.Of course she chose Ian.

It was with these thoughts and a sour stomach that Mickey drifted back to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To me, there was always way too much that went unsaid between Mickey and Ian. There were a lot of reasons for that, but most of those reasons are gone now. If they are going to have any shot at a future together they have to start talking. 
> 
> Some have pointed out that Ian is an asshole thus far in this. I was a little surprised at first, but rereading it, yeah, he’s a dick. I don’t think he ever truly understood what Mickey was up against and I think his bipolar only further complicates that. He has a lot of growing up left to do, but that’s what fiction is for. It’s one of the reasons this is so long. Hope you all have the patience to go the distance with me. :)   
>  2/29/2020


	6. 6. The Art of Miscommunication

“Wake up, Mickey.You’ve got shit to do.Wake up.”

The voice sounded far away but was loud enough Mickey had no choice but hear it.

“Don’t wanna.”Mickey grumbled.Restful sleep was scarce since prison and being woken up from it pissed him off.He would have rolled over to turn his back, but it hurt too much to move.

“I don’t care.” Ian pulled the blankets off and Micky wanted to curl his legs in for warmth but it hurt too bad so he just laid there, flat on his back with his legs stretched out in front of him. 

“It’s time for your pills again and you need to eat something.”

Mickey cleared the sleep from his eyes and looked up at the redheaded menace.Ian was nothing but chin right now and his eyes were that particular shade of green they turned when he was about to lose his temper.“Aw, you pissed, cupcake?”

“Yeah, Mickey, I’m super pissed but I’m still going to drag your ass out of this bed to the bathroom and then downstairs for some dinner.Take your fucking pills.”

“Bet you like saying that to me.”Mickey snarked, poking the bear.

Ian’s lips thinned into an angry frown.“The irony is not lost on me.”

Ian slammed the walker down next to the bed and glared at an as yet unmoving Mickey.

“You’re gonna make me walk?”Mickey asked, wondering if Ian was doing it as revenge because he knew how much moving hurt or if it was genuine caring that was making Ian over come his anger enough to follow the doctor’s instructions.Probably a bit of both.

“It’s on the instructions, so yeah, I’m going to make you walk.Since I never let you decide anything you should be used to it by now.Let’s go.”

Zinger. 

The fact was he did have to walk on it so Mickey used the controller for the bed, letting it help him sit up.The side of his hip burned with the motion but he endured it.He reached for the glass of water on the side table and then held out his hand for the pills Ian was holding.He swallowed them in a single gulp and then eyed the walker before letting his gaze travel to the boxes of medical equipment in the corner.“Are there crutches?I do better with those.”

Ian shrugged.“Your choice, Mick.”

Mickey snorted.“You’re not going to let it go, are you?”

“Not any time soon, no.”Ian replied as he went to the corner and picked up crutches.He brought them to Mickey and waited.

Mickey would die before he asked for help, but fuck did it hurt as he pushed himself upright with his arms and forced his right leg off the edge of the bed with his left.He sat there for a moment. “Fuck me, this hurts.”

“No one’s going to fuck you.”Ian mumbled under his breath.

That comment hit Mickey like a bullet, not that he would show it.“Just give me the fucking crutches.”

“Fine.”Ian snapped shoving the crutches into Mickey’s outstretched hand.He crossed his arms over his chest and jutted out his chin even more. “You’re wearing the belt though.”

“Fine.I don’t care.” Mickey griped as he adjusted the crutches to the right height he remembered so well from all the many times he had needed them in the last few years.

Mickey let Ian put the belt around him.He tried twice to get himself up under his own power, but his left leg was too wobbly. In the end he had to let Ian help him stand.Then he shoved the crutches under his arm pits.This was much better than the walker.This he could do.

Ian put a fist in the belt at Mickey’s back and they awkwardly proceeded to the bathroom where Ian stood behind him while he urinated.He needed to shit, but fuck if he was going to let Ian help with that.“Get out.”

“No.”The chin replied.

Mickey sighed.“Get the fuck out, Gallagher.”

“After everything I’ve done to your ass _now_ you’re embarrassed?Look, I’ll help you sit and then you can call me to come back and get you up, okay?”

Ian had a point.Still unhappy about it, Mickey used the crutches to turn around so his back was to the toilet.His face was burning as he struggled to get the seat of his pants off his ass while still keeping the front up enough to cover his dick.“God damn it.”

Ian waited, nothing but chin and narrowed eyes, for Mickey to signal he was ready. 

When Mickey nodded, Ian grabbed him under the arms and helped slowly lower him down onto the toilet.Without another word the redhead walked out and closed the door behind himself.

When he was done Mickey stared at his phone and considered his options. He didn’t want his first text to Ian in almost six years to be about taking a dump. He flushed hoping maybe Ian would hear.

Almost immediately Ian knocked on the door and asked, “You ready for me, Mickey?”

“Yeah.”Mickey grunted.It was a lie.In no way was he ready for Ian, but he was ready to get off the shitter and then get something to eat.

Ian entered the room and made a face. “For someone who barely ate a thing in two days, your shit sure does stink.”

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, chuckles.”

“Up you go.”Ian said, lifting Mickey back onto his feet and handing him the crutches.Then he stepped to the side and gestured for the door.“Ladies first.”

Mickey shot him a glare but proceeded to the sink to wash his hands and then out the bathroom with Ian close behind him holding the belt.Though he was loath to admit it, there was something comforting in the certainty Ian would not let him fall as he walked on shaky legs out of the room and to the elevator for the first time.

They rode it down to the second floor in silence.The door dinged open onto a wide landing with kitchen to the right and living room to the left. 

There was a fire going and the TV above the mantle was on.The ceiling was coffered and the walls paneled.There was a huge L shaped sectional and two oversized chairs in the living space.

The kitchen was enormous and white with the sort of appliances people like Mickey only saw on TV.There was a eight person table in front of the street side windows that had all of Mickey’s paperwork from the hospital spread across it.

Mickey whistled.“Well, shit.Ain’t this swanky.”

“What do you want to eat?”Ian asked, staring intently at his phone.

“Are you cooking?”Because that meant they were having cereal, cheesy eggs or more pancakes.

Without glancing up Ian said, “I’m not that cruel.I was thinking Uber Eats.”

“Oh.I’m cool with whatever.”Mickey replied.

“How do you feel about Greek?”

“No.” 

“Cool with whatever, my ass.”Ian grumbled.“Okay, there’s this really good pub a few blocks from here with a mean Shepard’s pie.How does that sound?”

“Fine.” Mickey was almost hungry enough to eat Ian’s cooking.

“Or fish and chips?”

“Also fine.”

“Or bangers and mash?”

Apparently Ian was trying to put some weight on him.“I really don’t care, fire crotch.I just need to sit down.Hip’s cramping.”

“Oh, right.Let me help you.”Ian set his phone on the counter and put his hand back on the belt.He helped Mickey over to the couch which was thankfully tall and overstuffed. 

_American Ninja Warrior_ was on mute.It was such an Ian thing to watch.The muscles were nice eye candy though.Mickey decided to leave it on.“Is Mandy at work?”

“Yeah, she left about an hour ago.”Ian was looking at his phone again. 

Mickey nodded.

“There, I got you the Shepard’s pie.Food should be here in 30 minutes.”

“What did you get?”Mickey asked as a particularly muscular would-be Ninja Warrior lost his grip and fell into the the water below.He should have known better.The guy was way too big to carry his own weight on his fingertips for long, but at least he looked great wet.

“I got the fish. Wanna beer?”Ian asked.

Mickey turned to look at Ian with raised eye brows.“I’m on hydrocodone.”

Ian shrugged as he took out two bottles.“Like that’s ever mattered.”

It had not mattered before when they were kids looking for any kind of escape they could find.But they weren’t kids anymore doing stupid shit without worrying about the consequences.Mickey was intimately familiar with consequences now.Besides, five and a half years mostly sober had turned him into a lightweight.Who knew what two 10 milligram hydrocodone plus beer would do to him.He could not afford to be any less steady on his feet than he already was. “I’ll pass.You got a Coke?”

Ian put one of the bottles back and closed the refrigerator door.“Maybe in the bar downstairs?I don’t drink soda anymore.”

Mickey rolled his eyes.“Beer’s cool, but sodas are bad?”

“One beer every once in a while is okay.Sodas rot your stomach.”

“Huh.” That was faulty logic if ever he had heard it, but whatever.“Still want a Coke though.”

“I’ll see if I have any.Doubt it since the bar isn’t really stocked yet. I just brought over whatever left over shit was at my apartment.”

When Ian left in search of the elusive Coke, Mickey looked around.This room was just as artfully arranged and decorated as Mickey’s bedroom, but at least there were a few family photos to personalize it a little.It still didn’t feel like a home though, more like an extremely swanky bed and breakfast.

“No Coke.I’ve got lime La Croix, OJ, milk, water, beer, wine and assorted spirits.”

“Who _are_ you? Fucking lime La Croix.”Mickey muttered.Back in the day Ian would have laughed at anyone who drank that shit.Now he was that guy.

“Fuck off.” Ian retorted, hopping over the arm of the couch and settling as far from Mickey as he could get.

“Guess I’ll just stick with water.”

“You could have said that before I sat down.”Ian groused as he got back up to go get it.

The food came not long after.The Shepard’s pie was as good as Ian said it was and Mickey managed to eat most of it.Ian’s fish was not the fish and chips Mickey had been expecting but some sort of white fillet sitting on a bed of vegetables. 

“You eat like a rabbit.”Mickey observed.In the past, Ian had eaten like a Southsider meaning he ate as much as he could of whatever was available whenever it was available.

“I eat like a man who has a six pack and wants to keep it.” Ian replied raising the hem of his shirt a little so Mickey could see a well defined six pack bordering on eight pack. The man was ripped.

On anyone else, a body like that was sex on a stick to Mickey, but on Ian it was concerning.From puberty onward Ian had been well built, but there had always been an edge of desperation to it.It felt like a cry for attention or, when Ian had been at his worst, like the ginger idiot thought his body was the only thing that made him worth anything.Mickey would have loved him even if he blew up into a whale sized couch potato, but somehow Ian had never understood.“You know, I never got that, why you’re so obsessed with your body.”

“I like to stay in shape, what’s to get?”Ian snapped.

“Never mind.”Mickey flapped a hand to wave off the topic.Ian’s sense of self worth really wasn’t his problem anymore anyway.

They both resumed staring at the TV.

A guy who was built like Ian, tall and lean and ripped came up to make his attempt at the first stage of the course.Mickey asked, “You ever think about going on this show?”

“I used to want to, but since Claymore took off...it’s one thing to make an ass of yourself when you’re anonymous but a whole different deal when people know who you are.”

Again with appearances.Those had always been important to Ian.Mickey had had that problem until he came out of the closet.Then he had not given a fuck anymore.He watched as the Ian lookalike completed the first obstacle with ease.“You could probably do it though.”

“Nah.The guys who win are into climbing and parkour.I just run and do a little lifting and yoga.” 

Mickey shrugged and went back to watching the show.The Ian lookalike could not get up the warped wall at the end.There was a metaphor in there somewhere.

During a commercial, Ian resumed the conversation.“I like the original Japanese version better.Their announcers were funny and they had some really crazy contestants.It was more playful.This version is too serious, you ask me, like it’s a sport rather than a game show.”

“Never saw it.”

“I have it bookmarked somewhere...”

“You know I hate subtitles.You used to, too.”

“People change.”

“Yeah.”Mickey agreed.People changed.Ian sure had.

They watched another guy plunge into the water and Mickey remembered, “Wasn’t Svetlana coming by with Yev?”

“She did, yesterday.You were sleeping and we decided not to wake you.” 

“Oh.”Mickey hated that he missed his son.

“She’s planning to bring him by again tomorrow.We’re making dinner.”

“Yeah?”None of them were any good in the kitchen, though Svetlana had the best skills of all of them which really wasn’t saying much.Mickey had made a few attempts, but he still would not count himself much of a cook.

“I told her I’d get you to FaceTime Yev before bed if you were awake.”

That made breaking up the _American Ninja Warrior_ marathon a lot easier.“My phone’s upstairs.I’m tired anyway.”

“Whatever you say, Mickey.”Ian replied, standing and helping Mickey to his feet.

***

Physical therapy wasn’t so bad.Jim was good looking, funny and very, very gay. Not Mickey’s type at all, but Ian kept side eyeing the guy in a way that made Mickey equal parts annoyed and happy.

It annoyed him Ian had the nerve to be jealous.It also annoyed him that he liked seeing Ian jealous. 

Ian had been jealous as hell about Mickey’s shotgun wedding, but that didn’t really count in Mickey’s mind.That had been a shit show from start to finish.Yevgeny was the only good thing to come out of it.

After that, the tables turned and it was Mickey who had to endure other men’s hands all overIan.Fuck yes he had been jealous, but he had not expected Ian to be faithful during his stints in juvie.Mickey certainly had not been. 

When he got out of juvie the second time Mickey had come back to a wounded animal and he thought cornering Ian about his behavior would just make things worse.Avoiding the confrontation had probably not been the right thing to do since all it had done was reinforce for the ginger asshole that no matter how bad things got, Mickey would never leave him.

And he had not. 

Ian was the one who left.

Now the shoe was on the other foot.Ian was the one who jealously wanted and Mickey was the one who didn’t give a shit.It was supposed to feel good, but somehow it didn’t.

It felt petty and mean, but not enough to make Mickey put a stop to it.He was more than willing to endure the mild guilt.

Jim spent their session going over proper body mechanics with the crutches and the best way to go from lying to sitting to standing that would put the least amount of stress on his hip while compensating for his bum left knee. 

If the looks were a little too long and the touches a tad too familiar, Mickey didn’t care.His skin crawled the entire time, but he only slapped Jim’s hands away a couple of times and only when Ian wasn’t watching.

Jim left the house with a huge smile and a promise to be back Wednesday.

Mickey smiled in return.“Can’t wait.”

Ian all but slammed the door in Jim’s face.

Mickey declined an offer of lunch from a glowering Ian and hobbled his way to the elevator and back to his room.Mandy followed him.She said it was to ensure he used the right moves in the right order but the moment the bedroom door closed behind them she dropped the concerned sister act and lit into him.

“You don’t have to be such a dick to him you know.”She said as Mickey gingerly lowered himself onto the edge of the bed.

Leaning the crutches against the bedside table Mickey glared up at her.“There you go taking sides again.” 

“Jim is so not your type which makes you a douche bag for stringing him along just to piss Ian off. That’s not a side.That’s a fact.” 

Mickey had nothing to say in response.She was right, no use denying it. He pushed the covers down a little farther on the bed and scooted back a little to make lifting his leg easier.

“You’re supposed to hook you left ankle under your right to lift your leg, dick breath.”

“I know.I was there, too. I fucking heard him.” And to prove it, Mickey hooked his left ankle under his right and swung his legs up onto the bed.He used his arms to push himself up a little higher in the bed before pulling the covers over himself.That was the last effort he planned on making today.Mandy just stood there staring at him with her arms crossed.

She was not going to let this drop yet.Fine.“The hell you know about my type anyway?”

“I know it’s not some swishy over the top queen.” 

Jim was out and proud, which wasn’t a bad thing. It just wasn’t Mickey’s thing.Mickey liked his men tall and lean and flying under the gaydar of the average person.Red hair was just a bonus, or so he told himself.“‘Fuck off. Like you’ve never let some dude you wouldn't bang flirt with you.”

“That’s not the point.”Mandy scoffed.Mickey had her there.There was no argument she could make that would not be a blatant lie which left her with nothing else but a subject change.

“It is the point, though.” He wouldn’t fuck Jim with someone else’s dick, but so what?He wasn’t like Ian with men following him around like puppies hoping for a pat on the head.He was the junkyard dog everyone avoided.He knew it was just pity or a bad boy thing or maybe a rescuer complex, but no one since Ian had ever expressed a real interest.She would never get it though.Men fell all over themselves to get to her just like they did with Ian.She had no idea what it was like.“I’ve never just...I couldn’t...there was Ian and then there was prison and I...”

He trailed off.He could not get the words out. Hell, he couldn’t even frame the thoughts much less put words to them.

If they were better communicators this would be easier, but neither of them had been taught how to express their feelings.Instead they were great at repression, snark, and when that failed, silence. 

Silence won out this time.

Mandy shook her head at him and walked out of the room leaving Mickey to lay there staring at the ceiling for hours trying to get his brain to turn off enough so he could sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 3/1/2020


	7. 7. A Hell of a Way to Wake Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trust once broken is hard to rebuild, but it starts with an honest conversation.

Mickey woke up terrified and swinging.His left fist connected with something and there was a grunt and a thump.

“Fuck!”Someone shouted.

Mickey’s eyes were burning and he was blinking fast trying to restore his vision.Why was it so bright in here?He needed to see, God damn it!He couldn’t defend himself if he couldn’t see.All he could see was a darker blob on the dark floor.He flung off the covers and swung his legs around.He leaped to his feet, swaying a little as the pain in his right hip almost took his leg out from under him, but he ignored it.He had his fists up and ready.

The blur on the floor said, “Woah, Mickey.It’s okay, man.It’s just me.Sit down.Fuck.”

He knew that voice.“Gallagher?”

The blur which was rapidly coming into focus started to get up saying, “Sit down, Mickey.You need to sit down.”

“Fuck.”Mickey stumbled back toward the bed and slumped on it.

“Jesus, I forgot how good your left hook is.That’s definitely gonna leave a mark.”Ian was sitting on the floor rubbing his jaw. 

Mickey looked down at him finally able to focus.Ian’s jaw was bright red.“Shit.You okay?”

“I’ll live.How’s your hip?”Ian asked as he climbed to his feet.

“Hurts.”That was an understatement.It was on fire.

“I bet.You weren’t supposed to do that for like another month. Do we need to call Gonzo?”

Mickey had to think about that for a moment.He hurt, a lot, but nothing felt torn or broken,He shook his head.“I don’t think so. What happened?”

“I was just coming to get you for dinner, man.You weren’t hearing me so I shook your shoulder and bam!You hit me.That must have been one hell of a nightmare.”

“I was having a nightmare?”Mickey didn’t usually remember his dreams.He never really had. 

Ian shrugged.“I don’t know, were you?I know you wake up rough sometimes but that was off the charts.”

Living with Terry had taught him to sleep with one eye open, but prison had taken that to a whole new level.He had learned the hard way he had to wake up ready to throw down.“You can thank prison for the upgrade.”

“Oh.”

“Now you know why Mandy just yells at me from a safe distance.”Mickey added, running a hand down his face.He was shaking, but that was just the adrenaline wearing off. 

“I’ll remember that.”

An awkward silence descended, which of course meant Ian would have to make it worse by breaking it.“So, it’s been days, man, since you had a shower or changed your clothes.”

“You saying I smell?”Mickey raised an arm and sniffed.Oh yeah, he stunk.There had been a time when he simply could not care.There was no hot water and sometimes no water at all at his house so showers were intermittent at best.Now, it bothered him.

Ian smiled.“Yes.I am.”

Mickey sat there for a moment trying to figure out the mechanics for a sponge bath since he wasn’t allowed to shower until the stitches came out.He had hoped he could make it until then, but now that he was aware of the stench, he had to do something about it.

Ian seemed to read his thoughts.“You’re gonna need help, Mick.”

“I got it.”There was not a chance in hell he was going to let Ian see him naked.

Ian shrugged.“If you want Mandy to help you instead, that’s fine.”

“I said I got it.”Mandy didn’t need to see that shit either.

“Or Svetlana can help when she gets here.”

Seriously? “No.”

Ian crossed his arms and glowered, “Then your choices are let me help you or stink.”

“Or I can do it my damn self.”Mickey growled.If the ginger menace would just shut up long enough for him to think, he would come up with a way to get the job done that would not hurt too bad or leave him exposed to scrutiny.

“How?You need the crutches to stay upright which means you can barely even reach your dick.”

That knocked loose an idea.“I only need one crutch, or I can do this sitting down, asshole.You aren’t getting a free show.”

Ian looked affronted. He immediately started sputtering, “I wasn’t...I just didn’t...you know what?I don’t care.Do what you want.”

With that he stalked out of the room slamming the door behind him.

He would be back.He was going to have to come back because Mickey didn’t think his ‘good’ leg would support him standing without help.The MCL in his left knee had been torn early in his incarceration.They told him it would heal on its own, but the joint remained weak and wobbly. He was right leg dominant as a result.That leg hurt too much to bear weight and he worried his left leg would buckle so he sat there, waiting. 

Ten minutes went by before Ian came back.“It occurred to me none of the bathing supplies are in the bathroom and you’re probably hurting too much to stand up on your own so I came back.I’m not a total asshole you know.”

“Could have fooled me.”

Ian paced over to the window and then back to the door before stopping and turning to face him.“Do you want me to to send you to a rehab or put you up in a hotel?Would that be easier?Because there’s only so much of this I can take.I’m in a really good place right now.I’ve been on the same med cocktail for nearly a year and it’s been working.I don’t want to fuck that up and the stress of walking on eggshells around you could do that. If I fall apart then all I’m going to do is make this and a whole lot of other shit worse.So I get that you’re angry at me, but you have to remember you aren’t the only one who’s a little fragile here.”

“You think I could forget?”Mickey asked a images of Ian in gold bootie shorts and wild, kohl rimmed green eyes and missing babies and bed bound lumps that wouldn’t eat or speak or move paraded through his memory. 

“I don’t really know what to think.”Ian replied with a helpless shrug.

Mickey found himself staring.Ian looked tired and drawn. There was a bruise forming on his jaw.This was not the bright and shiny version he had been at Yevgeny’s birthday party.This was taking a toll on Ian, too.Guilt seeped in.“Look, I can see you’re doing good.I don’t want to fuck that up for you.”

Ian spread his hands wide.“Then I need you to lay off me if you can.If you can’t then just say it and I’ll make other arrangements.”

“I don’t want you paying for me.”Mickey muttered. 

Ian let his hands fall back by his sides.“It’s just money.I have tons of it.All I want is to take care of you like I should have done all along, but I have to take care of me, too.I can’t go off the deep end again.”

And there was that conversation once again hanging between them, but Mickey knew they weren’t going to have it yet.Instead he considered Ian’s offer.

Ian was displaying a level of self awareness he had not had before and he was asking Mickey for help.What Ian was doing was very adult which contrasted sharply with the petty childishness of Mickey’s behavior. 

Alright, so let’s be adult about this, Mickey thought.Going to a hotel was not really an option since he couldn’t get around independently yet and if he was honest rehab sounded like a prison without bars.He couldn’t afford it anyway and he would not let Ian pay for him.As uncomfortable as this was, staying at Ian’s was better than the alternatives.It could get better if he worked at it a little, stopped biting Ian’s head off every time he opened his mouth.

By way of answer Mickey asked, “Can you help me up?”

“Sure.Give me a minute and I’ll get the dry shampoo and body wash stuff that doesn’t have to be rinsed off and some towels, okay?” Some of the tension in Ian’s posture relaxed and he walked over to the pile of stuff in the corner. “Oh, and some clean clothes.I also got a grabber thing so you can get your pants on and off without having to bend over too far.”

“Yeah. Okay.” Mickey shrugged.It was typical Ian to try to think of everything.

Once Ian had the supplies arranged in the bathroom, he came back and hauled Mickey to his feet, leaving a hand on his back while Mickey adjusted the crutches and found his balance.It hurt to stand as much as he had thought it would.It was ten steps from the bed to the toilet, but it felt like a marathon.Once there, Ian turned his head to the side while Mickey got his sweatpants past his ass so when he sat down he’d be able to pull them the rest of the way off by himself. 

Once Mickey was settled on the toilet lid and Ian was satisfied all the supplies were in reach he asked, “You sure you’re going to be okay doing this by yourself?”

“Yes, Gallagher, I’m sure.” 

Ian nodded and made his way to the door where he paused.“Text me when it’s time to get you up, okay?”

“Yeah, sure.” It was not like Mickey had a choice.

***

Mickey had developed a lot of coping mechanisms in prison.

One of them was a hygiene system that worked for him.The routine was he stripped, got in the shower, washed his face, his hair, his pits and his crotch and he got out.He did it as fast as he could.He never let his hands go anywhere else.He did not look down.He stared straight ahead at the tile wall and when he got out he avoided mirrors until he was fully dressed.Then he could brush his teeth, shave, and mess with his hair.

So now here he sat on the toilet with his pants around his ankles and the grabby thing in his hand so he could get them untangled from around his bare feet, but to do that, he had to look.

Fuck.

Worse, to get the sweat and stink of nearly a week off his skin he was going to have to touch all the places he didn’t want to even think about.It was way better than having someone else touch him, but it still sucked.

“You can do this.”He said to himself.It took a couple more minutes to work up the courage.He looked down.

There was the scar on his thigh from where Kash shot him.He could look at that one.It was old.

There was the one on his ankle from where his father had crushed it.God knew how many pins were holding that joint together.It had been the same surgeon who had botched his hip. 

He chose not to think about that.

Mickey got the pants off.

He used the grabber and a washcloth to take a cursory pass at his legs.

He washed around his groin, carefully avoiding the incision on his right side.It looked okay, but off to the side of his hip it was very swollen and a little red.

That was not good.He was going to need to call Dr. Gonzalez.

He washed his face and hair with a new washcloth and then sighed.All that was left were theparts he really didn’t want to do.He pulled his shirt over his head and let it fall into a heap with the rest of his dirty clothes. 

He washed over the cover up tattoo on his left chest where Ian’s misspelled name used to be.It wasn’t finished yet.He still had at least two more sessions before it would be.He glanced at his knuckles where the vague outlines of Fuck U-up lingered.He had tried to have them removed, but being home done the ink was too deep for the laser to get it all.It would not get any better so he was going to have to cover those too at some point, but he hadn’t decided what he wanted yet. 

On the other side of his chest there was a scar left over from a subclavian line he had needed for CRRT.He got his pits and sighed.Now for the really bad part.Further down was where the real damage was and he added several additional wash clothes to form a barrier between his hand and his body so he didn’t have to feel the scars when he scrubbed.

Last he got between his ass cheeks and called the job done.

He immediately pulled on the shirt Ian had set out for him and got fresh boxers and sweat pants up high enough to cover his dick before he texted Ian.

//I’m ready//

//K//

Ian was there in a flash, like he had been right outside the door waiting.

The first words out of Mickey’s mouth were, “I do need to see Gonzo.”

“Why?”Ian asked carefully hoisting Mickey up and onto his feet. 

“The incision’s fine, but over here,” he put a hand gingerly on the side of his hip, “is really swollen and red.It also hurts like a son of a bitch.”

Ian kept a steadying hand on one arm as he reached around Mickey for the crutches.“Okay. I’ll find his card and call him.Do you have the energy for dinner down stairs or did this do you in?”

“I’m done.”Mickey said as he started the long ten step journey back to bed.

Ian followed right behind him, there to catch him if he wobbled.“I’ll bring you up something to eat in a little while. Is there anything else I can get you?”

Mickey slowly and painfully lowered himself down onto the edge of the bed and laid the crutches aside.“Nah, I just wanna sleep.That’s seems like all I do now, sleep.”

“It was major surgery, Mickey.Pain takes a lot out of you so it’s normal to sleep a lot when you hurt.”

Mickey knew this far better than Ian could understand.It was not so much the sleeping that was the issue.It was the vulnerability.“I just hate feeling this weak.”

“Is that part of why you’re waking up so bad?”Ian asked as he bent and lifted Mickey’s legs onto the bed.

Too grateful to protest, Mickey just continued on with the conversation as he settled into the pillows.The sheets had been changed.“Probably.”

“You didn’t do that before.”

“I hadn’t been to prison before.”

Ian sat on the edge of the bed and hung his head.“I’m so sorry, Mickey.”

“That shit wasn’t your fault and I should never have said it was. Their case was paper thin, but I had a name, a record and the cops fucking hated me.”He had always known he would end up in prison.It was the trajectory his father had set for him. 

The truth was, his public defender had sucked, but Mickey hadn’t done much to help the guy out either.There had only been one thing in his life worth fighting for, but that had been taken away.It had never occurred to him he could have a different life.

There was a black pit of Terry shaped despair waiting to swallow him if he kept going with this train of thought.Instead Mickey turned to the thing that saved him.“You know, if that lawyer from the Innocence Project hadn’t turned up when she did, I don’t think I’d be here now.Either my dad would have finally killed me or I would have killed myself.”

“You don’t mean that.”But there was a question mark in Ian’s green gaze that let Mickey know Ian feared he did.

“It doesn’t matter now I guess.”Mickey shrugged.He had not seriously thought about suicide since getting out of prison. 

“I hate that you ever felt that way.” Ian muttered, slumping forward with his elbows on his knees and his head bowed.

“I remember when you wouldn’t eat or drink anything.I couldn’t even get you to roll the fuck over.If that had gone on much longer you could have died.I hated it when you felt that way.”

“I’m so sorry I put you through that.”

Mickey had wondered how the conversation they had been dancing around would finally happen and this was not what he imagined, but it felt okay to talk about right now.“That was the disease, not you.Even when I didn’t really understand what the fuck was wrong, I knew it wasn’t you.The part that still gets me though is when you broke up with me, that _was_ you.”

Mickey wasn’t sure what he was expecting or even what he wanted, but watching Ian’s head slump down to the end of his neck and hearing him draw in a shaky breath made Mickey feel eerily calm. 

He needed to hear whatever Ian was going to say.

Without raising his head or looking at Mickey, Ian said, “I’d been with Monica.Before I’d only ever been with her when she tore into our lives like a tornado and then fucked off just as fast.I didn’t know what her life was like, you know, when she wasn’t messing us up.But I was suddenly the new Monica so I needed to know.I needed to see how she lived when she wasn’t fucking us up.”

Since Monica was the one who picked him up when the Army let him out of military prison, Mickey had figured Ian had been with her.It had torn him up thinking about all the damage that woman was doing to Ian and how powerless he was to stop it.He remembered hoping when Ian got back there would still be enough of him left to convince he didn’t have to be whatever he had just lived through.There had not been enough time though.Sammi had interrupted their break up, he went to prison and Ian...Mickey didn’t know what had happened to him after that.“How was it?”

“At first not so bad.She was selling meth in truck stops and snorting her own supply, but what else is new, right?She kept telling me I was perfect the way God made me and that we weren’t sick, the rest of the world just wasn’t as free.I can’t tell you how much I wanted to believe that.”

Mickey could only nod.He could imagine, but it probably didn’t even come close.Every member of the Gallagher family talked about Monica with a kind of horrified reverence which confused him.It was like she was a force of nature, as unavoidable and mercurial as lightning in a thunderstorm and just as dangerous.They loved her as much as they hated and feared her. 

“I was coming down off another manic cycle by the time she introduced me to her 19 year old boyfriend who was cooking meth in a trailer out in the middle of nowhere.She was 50 something for fucks sake, so obviously that wasn’t going to last.He was hitting her, getting tired of her.I could see it because living with Monica was always fucking exhausting.You couldn’t keep up with her and she was totally out of control, wild, you know?It could be fun sometimes, but it never ended well.”

Mickey knew that, too. He had seen it with Ian.

“I knew what would happen.He’d tell her to fuck off and she’d find herself another relationship or, if she couldn’t, she’d come home and try to play mommy just long enough for someone to get their hopes up and then she’d disappear again, or she’d finally bottom out and kill herself and we would never know.She just wouldn’t come back and we would always wonder what happened to her.”

That was exactly how Mickey had felt when Ian went missing.Knowing Ian was sick and out of control, but not knowing if he was recklessly manic or suicidally depressed meant Mickey had been able to do little else but drive himself nuts worrying and fearing the worst.

“I hitchhiked back to Chicago and the entire way back I was thinking about you and my family and this label I didn’t want to wear and the disorder I didn’t want to have.I was trying so hard not to be sick, but if I was sick, I thought everyone would be better off without me....and that I’d be better off without all of you.I could be me, you could be you and that would be the end of it.I could avoid the truth that way, the same way Monica did, but unlike her I’d stay away from you so you could forget about me and move on with your lives.I wouldn’t be the whirlwind that ruined everything in a shit storm of good intentions and selfish as fuck behavior over and over and over.”

“You do realize that was selfish as fuck behavior, right?I didn’t want to break up.I would have stuck it out.”

Ian nodded.“I didn’t want to turn you into Frank.I was trying to protect you.”

“Well, you did a bang up job.”Mickey snapped, though he knew it wasn’t fair.It had not been Ian’s job to protect him then.That was Mickey’s job and he was the one who failed. 

“I fucked up everything.”Ian agreed. 

Rolling his eyes at himself for being an asshole, Mickey tried to lighten the mood.He punched Ian in the shoulder.“Maybe not everything.People who fuck up everything don’t build billion dollar gaming companies or live in huge ass mansions.They don’t get their shit together and yours looks pretty together, Gallagher.”

A weak little smile formed on Ian’s face and he stood.Looking down at Mickey with tear bright eyes he said, “If money was all it took to be happy, I’d agree with you.I’ll be back with some food later.”

***

The next day Mickey found himself sitting next to Mandy at Dr. Gonzalez’s office. 

She was flipping through a magazine and Mickey was staring at one, but really thinking about his conversation with Ian.

He felt better, like he had gotten to express some things that had been on his mind for a long time.He hoped it was the same for Ian, but he had not seen him since.

Apparently Ian had a meeting this morning that he couldn’t Skype into or some shit.Mickey felt like he was being avoided but that was probably stupid.As he himself had pointed out the night before, Ian did head a billion (with a B) dollar company.It could not be easy to play stay at home nurse while running an empire.

“Ian was weird this morning.” Mandy suddenly announced.She poked Mickey hard in the shoulder.“What did you do to him?”’

Mickey shot her a glare and rubbed his arm.That was probably going to leave a mark.“Why do you assume I did something?Maybe he did something.”

“No.He’s dancing on thin ice while you’re barging around like a bull in a china shop.It was you.”

That was actually pretty accurate.“Yeah, you’re probably right.”

A huge smile spread over Mandy’s face.“Do my ears deceive me?You, Mikhailo Milkovich, actually agree with me? Who are you and what have you done with my brother?”

“I was being an asshole.” 

“You were.”

“Don’t you have work today?”Mickey changed the subject.

Mandy closed her magazine and pulled out her phone.“I go in after this.Wedding.I still can’t believe the money people spend on this shit.It’s crazy.”

When Mandy had been little and their mom had been sober enough, the two of them had planned weddings for her dolls. She had loved it as a kid so it kind of made sense she was still planning them as an adult.

“So you’re going to elope, huh?”Mickey teased, knowing she would not.

“Fuck no.I’m going to have a huge ass wedding with at least two dress changes and a cake taller than I am.”

Mickey laughed out right.She probably would.

“Watch me.I mean it.”She crossed her arms and glared at him. 

“Gotta land someone worth marrying before you can start worrying about dresses and cakes.”Or at least worth divorcing, the snide part of Mickey thought.

“True.” She agreed.

“Seeing anyone?”He asked, honestly curious.Mandy always had someone.Her taste in men in the past had been appalling, but since he had been in New York she had not brought anyone home or introduced him to anyone.He had been too caught up in his own shit to notice this oddity until now. 

She side eyed him and shrugged.“Not really.”

This kind of conversation was not normal for them.They didn’t ask questions about each other’s lives because it might imply they cared about the answer.Anything they openly cared about was subject to immediate and complete destruction if their dad found out so they tended to subconsciously distance themselves from each other for safety’s sake. 

Maybe that was why both he and Mandy had loved being at the Gallagher house so much.They were up in each others business all the time.They openly cared for each other.They fought hard, they played hard and they loved hard.Milkoviches were only good at fighting.

“Any prospects?”He asked.

She turned in her seat to face him, looking at him like he had grown a second head.“Since when are you my new gay bestie?”

He shrugged. “Since never.Can I be a concerned older brother? Fuck.”

“Whatever, Mickey.” She growled, clearly put off.They did not do this. 

After a moment she said, “There is this one guy I see at the hotel Starbucks, but I haven’t talked to him. We just exchange glances.He’s way too good looking not to be gay.”

“Maybe you should introduce me then.”Mickey teased.It felt good to joke with her.This is how he talked to people at the Gallagher house.

“I wouldn’t do that to him.”She replied with a Cheshire Cat grin.

“You don’t even know him.”

“Yeah, but I know you.”Zinger.That was pure Milkovich.

Before their lighthearted moment of sibling bonding could degrade into it’s more commonsnarkfest and accompanying hurt feelings a nurse rescued them calling, “Milkovich?”


	8. 8. Mickey Cooks and Other Unlikely Shit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We learn a little more about Mickey’s backstory.

“Well Mickey, the incision looks great and so does the new joint.The problem is this over here.”Dr. Gonzalez said.

“Yeah, I know.I can feel it.”

“No doubt you can.I am pretty sure you have torn up my good work.I have to ask.How did you manage it?Unable to resist that boyfriend of yours?”

Mickey glared at him.He should be so lucky.Instead he said, “I have PTSD.”

“Yes, something you might have mentioned before surgery.”Dr. Gonzalez chided.

It had honestly not occurred to Mickey to mention it.They asked if he took any medications.He did not, just Advil sometimes.They asked if he had any medical problems.Luckily, he did not. They asked about prior surgeries.That was a long list.No one had asked about his mental health.“Yeah.Anyway, I don’t wake up so well sometimes.”

“As my team is intimately familiar with, but I thought that was just the after effects of anesthesia until they told me.” 

Mickey had been regaled by a gleefully mean Mandy with exactly what had happened in the recovery room.He knew what he had done, what Ian had said and that their audience had been large.

“It happens at home too sometimes.” Mickey admitted.It wasn’t frequent, but only because Mandy was a fast learner.“I don’t like it when people touch me.”

“So we learned.Did you know we’ve come up with a whole new protocol for the PACU because of you?”Dr. Gonzalez smiled like this was supposed to be funny.

Mickey was not amused.

Dr. Gonzalez cleared his throat.“I’m sorry for making light of the situation.”

“I can’t help it.”Mickey explained.“It just happens.”

“You must have seen a psychiatrist to be diagnosed with PTSD.”

Mickey nodded.“In prison.”

“I see.I think you might benefit from seeing one now.”

“Why?”

“Because I think your PTSD still needs treating.I’m just a bone cracker, Mickey, but you cannot keep doing whatever it is you’re doing to you hip.It won’t heal properly.”

“I wake up fighting.” Mickey explained.“I jumped out of bed and punched Ian in the face yesterday just because he tapped me on the shoulder when I was sleeping.”

“I see.” Dr. Gonzalez opened a drawer in his desk and started rummaging.Finally he pulled out a card and handed it to Mickey. “This is a friend of mine.I’ve known him since medical school.He used to work in the prison system so he’ll understand better than most what you’ve gone through. He recently rejoined his family’s practice.I think he would be good for you.”

Mickey looked at the card and snorted, “You have got to be shitting me.”

‘What?”

“Dr. Amir Z. Mohammed?”He read the name off the card.

“Yes?”Dr Gonzalez looked confused.

“This is my prison shrink.”

A wide smile spread over the surgeon’s face.“Well isn’t that a happy coincidence.Assuming you liked him, of course.”

“Yeah.He was cool.”Mickey replied.He had actually really liked Dr. Mohammed once he had gotten past some deeply embedded racism and the whole ‘I don’t need a shrink’ thing.

“Then you should call him.Make an appointment.”

“Yeah, I will.”He would. Talking to Dr. Mohammed had been one of the few bright spots in prison.Without Dr. Mohammed he would not be alive today.

“In the mean time, I’m going to start you on a prednisone dose pack to help with the inflammation and a muscle relaxer.I also want you to take a second round of antibiotics just to be on the safe side and I’m giving you another round of pain meds.I’ll get those called in and you pick them up on your way home, okay?”

“Okay.”Mickey agreed.

“You need to ice that hip, 20 minutes every 4-6 hours as you need to help with the inflammation. No weight bearing for the next three days then you see how it goes, but go slow.I’ll send updated instructions to your physical therapist. Be gentle with yourself.”

“Okay.”

“If things haven’t improved in a couple of days you come back and see me.”

“Will do.”Mickey agreed, though he was determined to do everything right so he wouldn’t have to come back. 

***

Being able to finally shower was fantastic.Not being able to bear weight on his right leg sucked.

Ian, of course, had a solution.The shower chair.

“So let’s do this like we did with the sponge bath, okay?”Mickey asked when he hobbled into the bathroom with Ian on his heels.

“Fine.”Ian said.

It was the first time he had seen Ian since the conversation.Mandy was at work so Ian had taken back over as helper.It was decidedly awkward between them.Unable to stand it anymore Mickey asked, “What’s up with you?”

“Nothing.Let’s just get this done.”Ian said pointing to the medical equipment uglying up an otherwise gorgeous shower.

Mickey did not move.“Bullshit.You’re mad about something.”

“I’m not.”Ian sighed.

“Fine, you’re not mad.Whatever.”Mickey agreed hobbling the last step into the shower and making the turn so Ian could help him down onto the chair.

Ian stood in front of him, the cramped space putting them nearly face to face.Ian looked down at him.“I’m not mad at you, how’s that?”

“Okay.”The position reminded Mickey of kissing Ian, the way his neck would be arched back as the taller man leaned over him.His stomach dropped.The space was too confined and Ian was too big, too strong.Mickey pushed at him, forcing Ian out of the shower. 

“Let me help you sit.”Ian said, stepping back in front of him, not understanding.Ian put his hands under Mickey’s arms and guided him down onto the shower chair.Mickey stared at the tile under his feet willing himself not to freak out.It was just Ian.

Ian stood there for a second looking down at him and then said, “I just have a lot on my mind.”

Mickey wasn’t really hearing him anymore.He was trapped in the shower with a man who had him by six inches and at least 40 pounds.He was injured, weak, frozen.Powerless.He started to shake. 

“You good?” Ian asked, stepping out of the shower and then reaching up to get the handheld sprayer for Mickey.

Mickey nodded, not looking up.He didn’t want Ian to see.

“Text me when you’re done.”

“Okay.”Mickey agreed, glancing up.

Ian lingered for a moment, like there was something else he wanted to say but as the silence stretched out Mickey lost patience.He wanted to get this over with.“You got something else to say there, cupcake, or are you gonna let me do this?”

Ian glanced at him and then walked out.

Somehow, it felt like a loss.

***

“Papa!”Yevgeny called, running straight for him when Mickey emerged from the elevator.

“Gentle!”Three adults shouted at once and Mandy, as the closest person to Yevgeny, made an attempt to grab him as he darted past her.

“Woah, woah, woah, slow down, Yev.”Mickey said, taking his left hand off the crutch and holding it out to stave off his son’s assault.

Right before impact could occur, Yevgeny stopped and looked up at Mickey.“It won’t hurt if I hug you will it, Papa?”

What had he ever done in this life to deserve this kid?Melting inside, Mickey smiled down at Yevgeny.“Nah, just above the hips, okay?”

The little boy very carefully put his arms around Mickey’s waist and squeezed.“I love you, Papa.”

“I love you too, Yev.”Mickey replied.It still felt weird to say those words, but he loved the way his son lit up every time he could force the sentence past his lips. He fluffed a hand through his son’s dark blonde hair and stepping back.He didn’t like how close the kid’s face was to his stomach.

Svetlana patted a hand on a stool by the stove.“Hands are not broken.You help.”

“Yeah, good evening to you, too.”Mickey hobbled his way over and heaved himself onto the stool, leaning the crutches against the cabinets. 

Svetlana and Yevgeny had brought over dinner once before, but this was the inaugural cook in Ian’s new kitchen.It would be a test of endurance for Mickey.There had been therapy with Jim that morning, which was getting less fun with each session.It wasn’t just the exercises, it was that after the initial flirtatious session, Jim wanted to continue in the same vein and Mickey wasn’t interested.Jim was not taking the hint and had the session not ended when it did, Mickey was pretty sure Jim’s jaw would have been sporting a similar bruise to Ian’s.

He had taken a nap between, but the shower was also tiring.Being naked with only an unlocked door between him and exposure was nerve racking.Ian had been respectful so far, but that didn’t mean much moving forward as Ian got more comfortable.

Mickey hobbled into the kitchen where Mandy and Svetlana were pulling items out of bags.“What is all this anyway?”

“You make lasagna.” Svetlana replied, like it was obvious.Looking around at the ingredients being spread across the countertops it actually was.

“I make?”Mickey asked, pointing at himself, just to be clear.He had recently be trying to teach himself how to cook, but shit.He did not have the energy for this.

“Yes.You make for Yevgeny one time. He likes.You make again for rest of family.”

Somehow the word ‘family’ popped out at him.Mickey looked around the room and realized this was his family, the one he was born with and the family that was forced on him, but still his family.It stung that Ian would have been the family he chose if Ian hadn’t ruined it.

Svetlana continued on like she had not said anything weird.“I make dessert.Mandy and orange boy make salad.We eat.Not difficult.”

“One time.I made it one fucking time.”Mickey protested, though it was a lost cause and he knew it.

“So you make a second time.Feed family.”

‘The family’ had always been a heavy club his father had used to beat his children into submission.With Terry it always came back to family, but to Terry his family were possessions, not people.He made them do terrible things in the name of family and they did them because what would happen to them if they did not was worse.

When he met the Gallaghers Mickey got a new look at family. 

They fought and bickered, but there was never any real doubt they would be there for each other when it counted.They would bitch, whine and complain, but they came through.It was by no means perfect and the Gallaghers were almost as fucked up as the Milkoviches just in a different, far less violent way.

This, whatever it was, was yet another version of family, as yet undefined and still forming.This could be something better than anything any of the adults in the room had grown up with.Maybe.

Mandy broke into his thoughts offering, “Why don’t you just tell me how to do it, Mickey.Direct traffic, you know?”

“You burn water.”He retorted.She had once when she was 13.Mandy left a pot of water on the stove to boil for Mac n’ Cheese but forgot about it.All the water evaporated and the coating on the cheap pan caught fire.Mandy was there after banned from using any appliance other than the microwave, though she burned shit with that, too.“I got it.”

Then, because he never could help butting into conversations that did not concern him, Ian reminded the group, “You’re not supposed to exert yourself, Mickey.”

“But I can sit on a God damn stool and cook.”He really didn’t want to, but somehow having Ian tell him he shouldn’t made Mickey determined to make a damn lasagna.

“Since when do you cook anyway?”Ian asked.

“Who do you think kept us fed after our mom died?”Mickey asked.He had been forced to take on a lot of roles after her overdose.Keeping Mandy and himself fed was only one of them. 

“Yeah, Pizza Bites and Pop Tarts, Mac n’ Cheese or spaghetti from a jar.”Ian snorted. “ Since when do you make lasagna from scratch?”

“Since I got out of prison.” Mickey snapped.

Ian’s face fell. 

“I spent five and a half years wishing for an apple or a carrot stick, or even a fucking broccoli spear, anything that didn’t come from a can.So when I got out I decided to eat fresh and to do that I had to learn to cook.”

“How?”Ian asked, shaking off his sad face and replacing it with a mystified expression. 

Learning to cook really wasn’t that hard in Mickey’s opinion.It was also kind of fun.“Pinterest and YouTube.It’s not hard if you can follow directions.”

“I wanna help, too.”Yevgeny said, shoving another stool over toward the stove next to Mickey. 

“Sure, bud.How about you help me make the sauce?”

“Yeah!Hey Ian, I’m gonna make sketty sauce with my papa.”

Ian gave Yevgeny a thumbs up and Mickey a worried look, but he drifted away from the kitchen to go talk quietly with Mandy. 

Mickey did end up doing more oversight than actually cooking, being made chief in charge of reading the recipe from Pinterest while Svetlana did most of the actual work.Yevgeny dutifully helped by stirring the sauce.

They let it simmer while the girls drank wine and chatted.Ian kept Yevgeny busy playing computer games on the big screen over the fireplace. 

Mickey lounged in one of the lay back chairs closest to the kitchen and watched them. 

He remembered before everything went to hell that brief period where he, Svetlana and Ian had lived together in the Milkovich house trying to take care of Yevgeny.Nika had been there and Mandy and Kenyatta.Iggy and some of the cousins had been in and out.It had been and still was the closest Mickey had ever come to being happy.

The circumstances were very different now, but all the major players where still here.

The huge kitchen which Mickey had previously though of as glacial given how white and stainless steel it was, had somehow morphed into a homey space when people were gathered in it.

Even the impersonal family room with it’s handful of Gallagher family photos felt different. The giant couch seemed cozy now that Yevgeny was sitting on it...with Ian.

God damn Ian.

Mickey probably would not have any sort of relationship with his son if Ian had not stayed in Svetlana’s and Yevgeny’s lives.Mandy had been too wrapped up in her own shit to worry about his kid and, like Mickey, had been raised to avoid making connections to people.Iggy was a waste of skin and back then Svetlana had pretty much hated Mickey. 

Ian was the glue.He was Mandy’s best friend.He was Svetlana’s savior and business partner.He was Yevgeny’s father figure and friend.Was there a family without Ian in it? 

Fuck, fuck and fuck.They were even having their first ever from scratch home cooked family dinner in Ian’s house for fuck’s sake.

Svetlana walked over to him.“Time to build lasagna, yes?”

“Sure.”

She helped pull him onto his feet as Mandy joined Ian and Yevgeny on the couch.

Mickey hobbled after his ex-wife into the kitchen.

“You sit.”She gestured to the stool he had been sitting on earlier.

“Like you have to tell me twice.”

“I will make the baklava,” she announced.

“Sure.Can you get the ricotta out of the fridge for me?”Mickey did not want to get up again until he absolutely had to.

She did, along with an egg, fresh parsley, mozzarella and parmesan cheese.A baking dish and box of pasta followed.

She was opening a package of filo dough when she said, “This is good I think.”

“What is?” Mickey asked, stirring the egg and some chopped parsley into the ricotta. 

She gestured around the room.“All of us, together.”

“I guess.”Mickey replied noncommittally, even if he had been thinking the same thing not five minutes ago. 

She nodded and went back to her baklava. 

Mickey was able to start building the layers of the lasagna before she said, “I wonder, what you will do.”

“About what?” Mickey asked, not sure he wanted to know.She was leading him somewhere.

“I am thinking Mandy will meet husband someday.I too.Where does this leave Mickey?”

Well, duh.Svetlana had been after someone to take care of her since he met her and Mandy was always looking for love.They had exceptionally shitty taste though which was why both of them were still single.“The fuck, Svet?What are you talking about?”

“I speak of someday. Someday for Mandy.For me.”She said like she knew what he was thinking.Then she gestured towards the couch in the other room.“For you, someday is right here.Now.But you are too stupid to see it.Grab it or live with lifetime of regret.”

Mickey looked at Ian.God he was beautiful sitting there with Yevgeny and Mandy, a bright smile plastered across his face. He was amazing and perfect and so far out of Mickey’s league.He always had been.Mickey had felt lucky Ian had noticed him and maybe that was why he had taken so much shit from the taller man.Nothing had changed.Ian was even further out of his league than before and Mickey was even more broken. 

They had too much baggage, too much pain and loss and just fucking damage between them now.“It’s not that easy.”

“Nothing good is easy.You have troubles, yes, but better together than apart.You know this.Do not be idiot ex-husband.”

Mickey did not know this.

Mickey had left prison far more damaged than he had entered it.He knew he was in no shapeto deal with someone as mercurial as Ian, who came and went as he pleased and fucked when and who he wanted whenever he wanted.If he had not been able to hold Ian’s attention before, there was no way he would now.

With that depressing thought he pushed the finished lasagna toward Svetlana.“That’ll need to bake at 350 for 45 minutes.”

She picked up the offered pan and put it in the top of two ovens.With her back to him as she set the timer she said, “Mikhailo, I tell you this for your own good and for good of our son.”

“Yeah, everyone except me seems to know exactly what I fucking need.”

“Because you are idiot.”

“Love you too, sugar plum.”He pushed up from the stool and made his way back over to one of the lounge chairs where he could put his feet up with a little help from Mandy.


	9. The Mountain Goes to Mohammed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein we meet Mickey’s shrink.

“It’s good to see you again, Mickey.”Dr. Mohammed said as they shook hands.“I’m so glad to see you out and about.”

“That makes two of us.”Mickey agreed.They had not seen each other since shortly before Mickey’s release. 

“Please, have a seat.”Dr. Mohammed gestured toward a large, brocade couch.

“Yeah.” Mickey hobbled his way to the couch and looked down at it.It was too low.

Dr. Mohammed immediately stood from his own chair and offered it to Mickey.“Would you like this chair here?It’s taller.”

“Yeah, if that’s okay.”Mickey felt weird about it, but he would never be able to get back up if he sat on the couch.Dr. Mohammed moved to help him sit, but Mickey held him off staying. “I got it.”

“Of course.” Dr. Mohammed settled on the couch facing Mickey.“Why are you on crutches?”

“Had to have my hip replaced.”Mickey said, leaning the crutches against his left leg but having to move them almost immediately as his knee began to bounce and they almost fell.

Dr. Mohammed rose and took the crutches leaning them against the desk behind Mickey and resuming his seat on the couch.

“Probably the first of a lot of repair work.”Mickey blurted.That had been on his mind a lot lately.

“Perhaps, perhaps not.Time will tell.”

“Yeah.”Mickey was hoping more for perhaps not, but that was not how his luck worked.

“So, how are things?I was surprised to hear from you.”

Mickey avoided the first question and answered, “Dr. Gonzo gave me your card.”

“Serendipity.”Dr. Mohammed nodded and Mickey realized they had likely already talked about him.

“Guess so.”Mickey made an noncommittal agreement because he was not exactly sure what that word meant.

Dr.Mohammed leaned back in the couch and asked again, “How have you been?”

“Got an apartment in Brooklyn with Mandy.Best place either of us ever had.She’s doing

great.Almost done with college and working in a management training program to become an event planner.It’s good.”

Dr. Mohammed gave him an indulgent smile.“I’m glad to hear your sister is doing well, but how are you?”

“I’m on short term disability right now.”Mickey said.He didn’t know why he was being so evasive.He came here for a reason and talking was a necessary step to getting what he needed.

“Which means you are employed somewhere.”Dr. Mohammed supplied.“What sort of job do you have?”

“I’m a forensic accountant.They hired me ‘cause I’m good with numbers and think like a criminal.”

“Isn’t that just like you.”Dr. Mohammed murmured with a wry smile and shake of his head as he made a note on his pad with a fancy black pen.

Hackles raised, Mickey glared. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I marvel at your resourcefulness.You have found a job where what would normally be a severe handicap is a major asset.I am impressed.”

“Oh.” 

They were silent for a while just looking at each other.Dr. Mohammed had put on some weight and the dark circles under his eyes that Mickey used to wonder about were gone.His suit was cut to perfection and he fit into this overly ornate space far better than he had in the tiny mint green room that had been his office when Mikey had last seen him.

If this was his family practice, what the hell had the guy been doing in the Illinois penal system?

Dr. Mohammed cleared his throat.“I suppose the burning question is, why are you here, Mickey?”

“I’m fucking up my rehab for my hip because of my PTSD.I’m waking up freaked out, jumping out of bed, punching people.It’s out of hand.”

“I see.”Dr. Mohammed made another note.

“Barely a week and I’ve already re-injured it.” Mickey said in case it had not been clear earlier.

“Who did you hit?Mandy?” 

“No.” Mickey denied with a shake of his head.

If there was one thing Dr. Mohammed had in spades, it was patience.He could and did wait out Mickey’s reluctance until the younger man cracked and admitted, “Ian.”

Dr. Mohammed leaned forward in his chair.“Ian?You’ve reunited with him?”

Mickey tried to act nonchalant and just give the facts.“Not exactly.He’s helping us out since we live in a third floor walk up and I can’t do stairs.He’s got an elevator.”

“How did you reconnect with him?”

“Mandy and him are still close friends.He also stayed in the picture for my son.I couldn’t avoid him if I wanted to.”

“Interesting choice of words.Do you want to avoid him?”

“I don’t know.”Mickey replied honestly.On the one hand he doubted anything good would come from reuniting with Ian.Too much had happened, too much had changed.On the other, being with Ian felt normal and Mickey hadn’t felt normal in a very long time.It wouldn’t last, he knew, but it felt good just knowing the ginger idiot was right there within arm’s reach.

“So you are not intimate with him.”Dr. Mohammed said while he scribbled something.Mickey had long ago noticed he did that when he wanted to give Mickey time to arrange his thoughts in private before speaking.

This was an easy answer though. “Fuck no.”

“How do you feel about that?”

Unwilling to talk any more about Ian, Mickey snapped, “I feel like I want you to prescribe me something so I don’t wake up like an off the rails freight train anymore.”

Dr. Mohammed just looked at him.

“Fine.Fuck.I’m okay with it.”It wasn’t like he had a choice anyway. 

“Is that the truth?”

“You calling me a liar?”

“No.I am suggesting that is a flippant answer.You have spent hundreds of hours talking to me about Ian.Now you have Ian back in your life, but you are not together as you used to be.You must have feelings about this.”

“He’s moved on.”Mickey said, because surely he had.Ian was beautiful, rich, charming, and drew attention wherever he went.Add to that, he was very physical and fantastic in the sack.There was no way Ian was pining after Mickey like an obsessed teenage girl.Ian could have his pick of anyone. 

“He has a boyfriend then.”Dr Mohammed stated.

Mickey didn’t like to think about Ian’s relationships.Mandy had told him about a couple of Ian’s past boyfriends but no one current.Other than a few mid day meetings and a lot of time spent in his home office, Ian did not go out.If he had a boyfriend the guy had to be out of the country or something because Ian was not spending any time with him.“Not that I know of.”

“And you would likely know wouldn’t you, living in his house?”

“Probably.”Mickey realized.

Dr. Mohammed looked up, dark eyes staring directly at him and asked, “Do you have a boyfriend?”

“Fuck no.”Mickey spat out, stomach curdling at the thought. 

“So adamant.Why?”

“You know why.”Mickey ground out.He was not talking about this.

“I see.Overcoming trauma of a...”

“I didn’t come here to talk about that. I came here for help with my sleep problem.”Mickey snarled, getting angry now as anxiety began to build in his gut. 

“Are the two things not connected?”

Mickey ran a hand down his face.Of course they were connected, but he just could not do it.Mickey hated asking for help.Milkoviches didn’t need help, but in this instance he had no choice.He didn’t want to hurt himself or someone else.He didn’t want to talk about the things he knew Dr. Mohammed wanted to talk about.He just wanted some meds to help him sleep and that was it.“Fuck, Doc.I just need some help here.”

“And you’ll get it, Mickey.”

Something in the way Dr. Mohammed said it made Mickey acutely aware he was going to be blackmailed into talking about things he wanted to just forget.“But only on your terms.”

Dr. Mohammed spread his hands wide, “That is not how this works. This is not prison. I cannot force you to sit in this room with me.You are here because you chose to be and you can leave at any time.”

“Then I can choose not to talk about that.”What was with everyone talking about choices lately, anyway?

“Even if it is the source of your current issue, one which could cause permanent damage to your mobility?”

“Fuck.”That was true.Dr. Gonzalez had been very clear about not over stressing his hip.There was already going to be scar tissue, but the more there was the worse things would be in the long run.Sighing, Mickey asked, “What do you want me to say?”

“Whatever you’re feeling.”

“I feel fucking sick even thinking about this.”

Dr. Mohammed waited.

“I just want it to go away.”Another hand down his face.His left leg was bouncing so hard he thought he might bounce right out of the chair.

“It will not.”Dr. Mohammed said.

Mickey put a hand on his knee and willed it to stop bouncing.He was getting worked up.Breathe in. Breathe out.Slow and steady.Don’t panic.Breathe in. Breathe out.Finally he said, “Dealing with the other shit, I can do that, you know?I grew up that way.People got beat down, they got hurt, they got killed.I dished some of that shit. I also took it.I get it.”

“You can compartmentalize it better because you have already adapted to that kind of violence.”

“Yeah.”

“But rape...”

Mickey leapt out of the chair before he knew what he was doing.“Fuck!No.Not gonna do this. I can’t.”

Dr. Mohammed was on him and under his arm before he could take more than a few panicked steps towards the door.Mickey tried to pull away, but his leg was screaming which was probably the only thing keeping him from running out the door or going ballistic on the person touching him.The pain was nearly blinding.Through it he heard Dr. Mohammed talking to him.“Breathe, Mickey.”

“Sit,” The doctor said as he guided Mickey back to the chair. “Breathe.”

Eventually Mickey calmed.Dr. Mohammed handed him a glass of water which Mickey took in shaking hands. 

“Better?”

“I don’t know.”

“That’s okay, Mickey.”

Dr. Mohammed went behind him and Mickey heard papers rustling and then the doctor was back in his line of sight. He held out two pieces of prescription paper to Mickey.“I want you to take these.Zoloft is the drug I wanted to give you in prison but could not get approved, do you remember?”

“Yeah.”

“And that is for Prazosin.It helps with nightmares.”

Mickey frowned. “I’m not having nightmares.”

“You have told me many times you do not remember your dreams, but waking up throwing punches indicates to me you might have been in the midst of a nightmare when tactile stimuli awoke you and caused you to lash out physically.Try it.If it does not work, then so be it.I wrote for one month, but I want to see you back here in a week.Is that agreeable?”

“I guess.”Mickey shoved the prescriptions into his pocket.

Dr. Mohammed handed him the crutches and helped him stand when he could not manage it on his own.

As they walked to the door, Dr. Mohammed said, “Very well.I am glad to see you doing so well, Mickey.Not many men are able to make this much of a second chance.”

***

Ian was sitting on pins and needles waiting for Mickey to come out.

People from the Southside tended to be proud.They prided themselves on their resourcefulness and their fortitude.They prided themselves as survivors, tough and strong.Other than disability checks and public assistance, they did not need help.Anyone admitting they needed more than money, drugs, alcohol or sex to get by was instantly branded weak and the weak didn’t live well or long on the Southside. 

The Milkoviches could be the poster family for this kind of philosophy.They did not need help from anyone, ever.Implying they might was a fast track to a beat down.

In Ian’s opinion Mandy was the healthiest among them.She did things by herself, for herself.She also did things for other people, but heaven forbid someone do something for her.She would insist she did not need help even if it was obvious she did.

Mickey was worse, so going to the shrink today meant whatever he needed help with was no small thing.Never in a million years had Ian thought Mickey would ever go to a psychiatrist.

“How’d it go?”Ian asked when the door slammed open and a very pale Mickey hobbled out into the waiting area.

“You see a shrink. How do you think?”Mickey growled. 

Ian looked him over.Mickey’s face was pinched, a clear indication he was hurting.It was also clear he was trying to hide it.

Then the door Mickey had just come through opened again and a very tall, lanky West Asian man came bustling through.“Mickey?I glad I caught you.I wanted to give you this.”

He held out a card.“This is my cell phone.Call me if you need to talk, alright?” 

“Yeah, okay.”Mickey snatched the card from his hand tucked it into his pocket.His eyes skittered towards the door.Mickey was about to make a break for it.Ian put a hand on his arm only to have it shrugged off.

The doctor turned to face him, eyeing him up and down before asking, “Who is this?”

“I’m Ian Gallagher.”He volunteered, but the doctor seemed to know already.

They shook hands and Dr. Mohammed said, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ian.Mickey, would you mind if I take a moment with your friend?”

Mickey glowered, clearly minding, but rather than admit he cared, he shrugged and said, “Whatever.”

Dr. Mohammed cocked his head at Mickey thoughtfully.Mickey stared at the floor.

“Doctor patient confidentiality is sacrosanct, Mickey.What you and I talk about is no one’s business but ours. I will not share anything you and I have spoken of with Mr. Gallagher.”

Mickey waved them off and leaned against the back of a chair looking grumpy and pale. He had to be in a lot of pain so as curious as Ian was to meet Dr. Mohammed, he also wanted to get Mickey home and back in bed to rest.

Dr. Mohammed motioned Ian over towards the window and Ian followed.

Once they were out of Mickey’s earshot, the doctor said,“I do not know you, Ian, but I have heard of you.”

“I bet, yeah.”Mickey had told him this was the same shrink he had seen in prison, which was crazy coincidental, and that the guy knew everything there was to know about him which made it a virtual certainty he also knew a lot about Ian. 

Ian’s head bowed a little.He had put Mickey through a lot of pain.He imagined Dr. Mohammed did not like him very much.It made him feel both guilty and defiant.He raised his gaze and found Dr. Mohammed studying him with a thoughtful expression on his face.“How are you doing?”

“I’m fine.”Ian replied, surprised to be asked that.

Dr. Mohammed did not seem to have a follow up question.Just a cock of the head that made Ian feel like he needed to elaborate.“I see Dr. Angela Brynner every week on Thursdays.I’ve been on the same cocktail for almost a year with no issues.I’m holding steady.”

He hated it. 

He hated always having to lead with his disorder.He had told the world about it hoping it would become a nonissue and for the most part that worked.The world shrugged.Claymore was not publicly traded so no one had a reason to worry much about his mental health.In his personal life though, his disorder loomed large.Anyone who was with him also had to live with his disorder.Mickey had seen him at his worst and clearly had aired all to Dr. Mohammed.The guy probably wanted him a million miles away from Mickey.

“That is an impressive bruise.”Dr. Mohammed pointed to the side of Ian’s face. 

He had been trying to grow out his beard a little to hide it, but apparently it was not enough yet.Ian’s hand went to his jaw.“Mickey has a wicked left hook.He didn’t mean to though.”

“I believe you, but you can see the need to proceed cautiously, can you not?”

Ian sighed.

Dr. Mohammed was going to tell him how not good for Mickey he was and how toxic their relationship had been for both of them.He would make it about Ian’s mental health and how important it was for him to stay even.He would tell Ian how Mickey needed time to work through his issues on his own and how he needed space to do that.He would tell him Mickey would not be able to heal properly if he was worrying about Ian’s state of mind too much.He would ask Ian if he could not understand how much better for both of them it would be if they stayed apart for at least a little while (when really he was hoping to keep them apart forever). 

Or maybe he was reading too much into this.Dr. Mohammed had kind, concerned eyes.With a glimmer of hope, Ian realized if Dr. Mohammed had managed to earn Mickey’s trust he must be a pretty stand up guy. 

It really didn’t matter anyway.It wasn’t like Ian could suddenly not be bipolar or Mickey could suddenly not have issues so bad he actually wanted to see a shrink.Ian sighed.“I know prison did a number on him.I just want him to be okay and if that’s not possible with me, okay, I’ll learn to live with it, but I love him.I was too young and too sick to do it right last time, but if there’s any chance at all we can get back together, I’m all in.I’ll do whatever it takes.”

He meant it.He had fucked up royally, but he would spend the rest of his life making it up to Mickey if the other man would let him. 

Dr. Mohammed extended his hand to Ian and they shook hands again.“It was a pleasure to meet you.Thank you, Ian.”

“Yeah, okay.” Ian said to the doctor’s departing back, confused. 

“That guy’s a trip.”Ian said as he walked back over to Mickey.

“What did he say?”Mickey asked, trying to appear nonchalant. 

“Nothing.” Ian shrugged.“Basically warned me to be nice to you or else.”

Mickey smirked.“I knew I liked him.”

Ian could not help smiling back.“Fuck you.”


	10. Mature Relationships

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains reference to RAPE. As a survivor myself, I don’t find it triggering, but we’re not all alike in how we feel so I just wanted to warn you, this could be triggering.

Mandy was sitting at the kitchen table at Ian’s house working on homework.Or she should have been, but she was instead watching her brother and best friend sitting on the couch together playing _Torchlight_.

Until now, Mickey had avoided any and all Claymore games using the feeble excuse Ian was rich enough already.

Mandy had shrugged it off.She shrugged off a lot of things.

She acknowledged this tendency to avoid was the root cause of one of her major problems.She instinctively denied herself things that might be good because if she never had it she could never miss it.If she could not resist, she tended to sabotage good things in her life because if she ruined it for herself, it hurt less than when her father fire bombed it. 

Getting her GED had seemed like a fluke, like her dad had let one slip through the cracks, but it had been the first step.Doing better than expected on the SATs, getting into junior college, moving to New York and getting into NYU, those were things she would never have dreamed of if she had not been sure Terry was locked up for at least a decade.Even then, without Ian as a constant, encouraging presence in her life she doubted she would have gotten this far. 

None of her brothers had finished high school.Only Mickey had his GED.He also had a college degree, but Mickey had prison to thank for both because he never would have gone back to school otherwise. 

By some miracle, she would join him in the ranks of the educated at the end of this semester. 

As much as she sometimes struggled with the strange normalness of it all, she knew it was 10 times harder for her brother.Her progress had been natural and organic.She had driven the changes in her life herself. 

Mickey had been pushed and prodded and beaten into the life he had now.None of it was really his choice.It had just happened to him and he had rolled with it, adapting as best he could to things he had not wanted and didn’t know how to deal with.He had always been like that.

Of all her brothers Mickey was the only one Mandy had ever liked.The oldest three were idiots, nothing more than tools Terry could manipulate and use. 

Iggy wasn’t so bad.He was usually too high to be of much use for anything.He would go on drug runs and throw down when he had to, but mostly he sat on the couch and smoked himself senseless.For some reason Terry allowed him to get away with it most of the time.

Mickey was the exact opposite.Terry was always on him.Mostly it was because Mickey was the only one of the brothers worth a damn.He was smart.He was resourceful.He could follow instructions _and_ think on his feet.Most of all, he was resilient.Mandy believed Terry had thought of Mickey as his heir until Mickey had come out. 

Mandy had been the family princess.Their dad had treated her very differently from his sons.He had protected her, or at least that was how it had felt when she was young, and he made his sons protect her too. But then her mother died and his treatment of her changed.

Most of the time she thought her dad didn’t know what he was doing.He was always falling down drunk when he came to her room, but sometimes he would leer at her while completely sober.

Mandy didn’t need to be told to keep her mouth shut.She knew what he would do if anyone found out.Her brothers would have tried to defend her, as their father himself had taught them, but Terry only wanted Mandy defended from outside influences, not from himself.He would have killed his sons if they had interfered so to protect them she kept the secret. 

Only Lip and Ian knew the truth.Lip never seemed to care, but Ian had helped her get the abortion.He had held her when she cried.He had never judged.She loved him for that.

Ian would love Mickey through his secrets if Mickey would allow it. 

They were really only secrets in theory anyway.Mandy knew what he was hiding.All four times he had ended up in ICU she had been called as his next of kin to make the tough decisions for his care.The first three times had been easy decisions to make.The last time though, had been a different story.

She had not known if Mickey could live with it, if she could live with watching him try to. 

The doctor had explained what happened, what could be done and what the possible long term issues could be.He was young and otherwise healthy, but the undercurrent of the conversation (to Mandy anyway) was that Mickey was too far gone to salvage in both a physical and psychological sense so why not donate his organs to people who’s lives could still matter?

As angry as that had made her feel, Mandy almost did it.Even now she sometimes thought it would have been an act of mercy, but she had not been able to bring herself to pull the plug on her brother. 

Before the attack, Mickey had been meeting with the appeals attorney who thought she had a way above average chance of getting Mickey not just out of prison, but cleared.For the first time in a long time Mickey had seemed hopeful. 

She was the best criminal appeals lawyer in Chicago.Ian had spent his very first royalty check from _Survive Southside_ on her retainer fee. At the time Mickey had been ignoring all of Ian’s attempts to reconnect.Thus, when Ian hired the lawyer they debated the pros and cons of telling Mickey who was behind it.In the end, they decided not to tell him and concocted a story about the Innocence Project whom the lawyer sometimes worked with anyway. 

If ever Mickey wondered if Ian loved him, that should prove it, but neither she nor Ian would volunteer that information.Mickey would be pissed they lied to him and worse, he would feel obligated to repay.

The gulf between them was far larger than Ian knew or Mickey would admit.Not for the first time Mandy wondered if she should broach the subject-that-shall-not-be-mentioned. 

It was like a huge pus filled boil, obviously there but too intimidating and painful to mess with.She knew he was seeing a shrink again, but knowing Mickey, it would be ages before he would ever willingly talk about what had happened to him.What would happen if she just lanced the boil?It would be messy and gross and painful, but it would also finally start to heal.

Would it be better or worse if she shared her own secret with him?If she told him how Ian had responded so he would not be so afraid of Ian tossing him aside like so much garbage?Would it help?

Ian was bending over backwards trying to give Mickey the space he needed to decide what he wanted.Mickey was probably trying too, even if it was less apparent.

She looked at them again, side by side on the couch, teasing each other as they played Ian’s ground breaking game.She wondered if they realized how easily they had slipped back into old habits.

Back then, they had been too young and stupid, too fucked up, and too fundamentally screwed by life to make a relationship work.

In the intervening six years most of that had changed.They were older and wiser.Ian was medicated.Mickey was out from under Terry’s thumb.They had left Chicago behind.They had left their old lives and predetermined destinies behind. 

What they could not leave behind was each other.Even separated by bad decisions, prison bars and mental illness they remained connected through her, through Yevgeny, through Svetlana.If they never got back together, they would still always live in each other’s periphery. 

It was obvious to people on the outside that they loved each other, so she had hope, but with so much unspoken, she also had doubts, lots of doubts.

***

Mickey didn’t know how long he and Ian played _Torchlight_ , but it had been light outside when they started.It was dark now.As much as he hated to admit it, the game was awesome.He could see why so many people played.The only reason they stopped was because Mickey ran out of energy.

Ian had ordered in again. Thai this time.That was one of the cool things about New York.The food was fantastic.Mickey had wolfed down nearly all of his basil fried rice.He was paying for it now, feeling bloated and over full. 

It also made hauling his ass off the couch that much harder.After two failed attempts, he gave in and let Ian help him to his feet and hand him his crutches.

“I think we need to take you back to Gonzo, Mick.”Ian said as he followed Mickey’s slow progress to the elevator.

“I know,” Mickey admitted. Icing his hip had helped a little, but Mickey knew it was hurting more than it should be.It was also still swollen and warm.He had been told not to bear weight on it for three days.It was the end of day four and it was no better.“You know he’s probably gonna want to open me back up, right?”

They stepped into the elevator and Ian hit the button for the fourth floor.Then he turned to look at Mickey.“Yeah, maybe, but it should be better by now and it isn’t.”

“I sort of walked on it at Dr. Mo’s office yesterday.”Mickey admitted.It might be better if he had not done that.Maybe it would get better if he stayed off it for a few more days.

“Why?”Ian asked as the elevator dinged and the door opened.

“It’s not like I did it on purpose.”Mickey snapped as he made his way to his room counting out the 26 steps from elevator to bed as he went.

Ian stepped around him and opened the bedroom door so he could pass through it.“So we give it another day and if it hasn’t gotten better, we go back to Gonzo.Deal?”

“Yeah.”Mickey agreed as he sat heavily on the bed.The thing that scared him the most was that this could be permanent.

Ian gestured to two new bottles on the nightstand.“You should have given those to me yesterday.Anyway, I got your prescriptions filled.I never took Zoloft, but Prazosin works well.”

“You take it?”Mickey asked as he allowed Ian to swing his legs up onto the bed.Ages ago, Mickey had kept close track of Ian’s pills.He did not remember that one.It must have come later.

“I did. I’m on Seroquel now which works better with some of the other stuff I’m on, but that was a good one while it lasted.I’ll probably end up on it again someday.”

“Really?Why?”Mickey had read a lot about bipolar and how it was treated back when Ian was first diagnosed.It had not occurred to him that Ian could be taken off and put back on certain meds.He had thought meds just wore out and Ian would have to try new ones.

“Just because something stopped working in the past doesn’t mean it won’t work again in a different combination in the future.The only drugs that come off the table are the ones with side effects I can’t deal with.”

“Do you have a boyfriend?” Popped out of Mickey’s mouth before he even knew he was going to ask it.He had been thinking about it a lot and though the timing was terrible, Mickey shrugged it off.He couldn’t take it back anyway.

Ian sat on the edge of the bed and looked at Mickey with a raised eyebrow and a slight smile.“That was out of left field, but no, I don’t.”

“You always have someone.”Mickey countered though he wished he could just nod and let the subject go.He was not supposed to care.He _did not_ care.

“Seventeen year old me always had to have someone, you’re right.”Ian agreed.“Twenty three year old me has already done enough fucking around for several lifetimes.Getting laid isn’t the issue.I can get laid any time.It’s the connection between two people that holds them to each other through thick and thin, that’s the thing I want.”

“What about your...” Mickey still did not believe Ian for one very good reason. He just could not remember what it was called.“...sex thing.”

“Hyper sexuality?That’s a symptom of mania for me.” Ian explained, eyes on his hands in his lap.It was very apparent to Mickey Ian was ashamed of this.Part of him thought Ian should be.Another part felt bad for the redhead because it really wasn't his fault the wiring in his brain was fucked up. 

“I’d rather think I was Jesus or something,” Ian made a strangled sound that might have been an attempt at a laugh, “but that’s not how it works for me.I’m a lot better at identifying early signs of mania now than I used to be so I haven’t had a real episode in a couple years, just a couple close calls.” 

Mickey imagined Ian was short selling the amount of effort which had gone into keeping himself so well controlled.He smiled, but Ian didn’t see it. 

Ian was still staring at his hands.“If the real question you’re asking me is will I cheat again, the honest answer is if I go manic, yes.I’ll cheat.I’ll hate myself for it later, but in the moment I can’t see it for what it is.”

“Bet that’s a relationship killer.”Mickey’s hands clenched into fists by his sides.Why the hell had he said that?Way to twist the knife, Milkovich.

Ian’s shoulders slumped a little more.

They had never been faithful.Mickey had lots of sex in juvie.Ian had other partners even when Mickey was on the outside.When they started out it had not mattered, in fact Mickey had preferred it that way.Less pressure.Fewer questions. 

Towards the end though when they were finding out Ian was bipolar something had changed.Mickey had changed. 

He became jealous.Where once he had only cared if one of the randoms hurt Ian, he suddenly discovered he cared there were randoms at all.He had accepted way more sex than he wanted in an effort to keep Ian’s attention where it belonged.When Ian was manic they sometimes had sex five or six times in a single night.Mickey would be so sore the next day he could barely walk and taking a shit was fucking miserable, but Ian would be ready to go again first thing in the morning when Mickey woke up.Ian had been insatiable, his needs beyond Mickey’s ability to give.Ian’s random hookups intensified.Mickey had understood it was part of the mania, but it had still hurt like hell.

Ian interrupted his thoughts admitting, “So is being bipolar.Most people don’t want to deal with it.I can’t really blame them.”

Mickey grunted acknowledgement.He had been willing to deal with it, but he vividly remembered how hard it had been. 

When Ian was just a poor kid from a shitty neighborhood, yeah, being bipolar would definitely affect his chances, but now he had the compensating factors of wealth, influence and fame.If Ian wasn’t in a relationship, it was because he didn’t want to be.Speaking of, “So you just fuck around now.”

“No, I don’t.I’m not picking up random men in clubs anymore.”Ian was quick to defend himself though he still did not look up from his lap.“There’s two guys who are pretty regular partners, but neither of them are boyfriends or anything like that.We just fuck sometimes.One of them is totally in love with someone he can’t have and the other is just too busy and travels too much to have anything long term which works fine for me.”

“More geriatrics?”Mickey asked.

Ian smiled a little.“I’m over my daddy phase.Louis is my age.He’s the one who’s in love.Greg is 35.”

“Huh.”Mickey grunted in response.

Mickey was 25 years old but he often felt like he was stuck at 19, as if he still had a lot of growing up left to do.Time had stopped in prison.He knew no more about functioning adult relationships than he had six years ago, probably less.

However, what Ian was describing sounded like a mature way of dealing with his issues and still getting his needs met.It wasn’t an ideal solution, but it was a much better one than 17 year old Ian had been able to come up with.

“What about you?Are you seeing anyone?”Ian asked, not looking at him.

“Nope.”Mickey snapped.He had known once he opened up the topic the conversation would swing back around to himself eventually.That did not mean he wanted to talk about it though.

“Dating?”Ian asked because of course the ginger idiot would think there was a distinction between the two. 

Maybe there was, Mickey wouldn’t know.“When have I ever dated?”

“Yeah, we never made it to Sizzler did we?”

“No.”That had been a terrible day.

“So I still owe you a date.”Ian said though it sounded like a question.

“No, you don’t.You don’t owe me shit.”Mickey snapped back though he wondered at how vehement he sounded.He didn’t want to beat on Ian anymore.He felt like Ian was beating himself up enough for both of them. 

“Okay.Sorry I asked.”

Jesus, Ian could not look more downcast if he tried.Mickey didn’t want that.Ian had worked too hard to get where he was for Mickey’s anger at things Ian had had no control over be the cause of a major mood swing.He wanted to joke about how far they had come from Sizzler, but he still had not worked out what he was feeling or what he wanted so finding words was damn near impossible, but he tried.“I’m just...it’s not...I’ve got...issues.”

“Me, too.”

“I’m not...” Who I used to be.Who you remember. Who you want me to be.Who I wish I was.I’m a fucking mess and I don’t want to be.I don’t want to be like this, Mickey thought.Ian definitely had his own issues and those were no joke, but Mickey was dealing with some next level shit here. 

He had never expected Ian to stay with him.Why would someone like Ian stay with someone like him?Even though he had known it was coming someday, it had hurt far more than he thought it would when Ian turned his back on him.At first, he had not quite believed it.He had maintained hope it was just the illness talking, but then Ian came to visit him and killed that hope. 

In it’s place, anger was born.He was angry at himself for believing he could have something good and even more angry at Ian for teasing him with something he hadn’t even known he wanted until the fucker dangled it in front of him.Now that chance was gone.It was too late. “I don’t think our issues are compatible.”

Ian finally turned to face him, expression open and earnest.“If we never talk about them, how do we really know?”

“Trust me, I know.”Mickey wasn’t the man Ian remembered.Not by a long shot. 

“I do trust you, Mickey, more than anyone I know, but I think you’re wrong about this.” 

“I’m not.”It hurt to push those words past his teeth.Of everything he had lost, losing Ian hurt the most.

“You know you can tell me anything.I can’t judge you, not when I’ve done the things I’ve done. Glass houses, you know?”Ian finished with a weak chuckle.

Mickey suddenly wondered what Mandy had told Ian about him.She had probably told him way more than Mickey wanted the redhead to know.Feeling exposed, Mickey snapped, “You think I never judged you?”

Ian shook his head.“I’m sure you did.Why wouldn’t you?I did terrible things when I was supposed to be, I don’t know, better than that.I _was_ better than that and then...bipolar.I dropped a nuke on everything and everyone I ever cared about.I understand why you hate me.I just wish you didn’t.”

God, the look on Ian’s face.The anger was still there, but concern took over as Mickey’s dominant emotion.“I don’t hate you.I’m pissed as fuck at you, but I get it.It’s like you’re the Hulk or some shit.When the disorder takes over, you can’t control what you do, I get that.It still fucking sucks though.”

“I am so sorry.” Ian’s head was hanging between his shoulders again.“I’d do anything to take it all back if I could.”

“I know you would.”Mickey agreed.There was a lot he would take back too if he had the chance.

“I’m better at seeing the signs now.”Ian said again.

Mickey knew when Ian was fishing.The ginger idiot wanted to tell him what he had learned about his disorder and, if Mickey didn’t give him the opening now, Ian would force one later.It had always been like that.Ian would start with a hint and end with a hammer.With a slight smile and a sigh he asked, “Okay, what are the signs?”

“I start talking too fast, having too many ideas, trying to do too much.I stop sleeping.I work out way too hard.I get really horny.Those are the early signs for mania.When I’m starting to sink I’m tired, antisocial, bored with things I usually like, don’t have the energy to work out or fuck.I’m tired but can’t sleep.”He took a deep breath and continued, “The hard part is all of these things can also just be me getting excited about something or being happy or they can be me getting sick or being over tired.I have an inventory of questions I ask myself to figure out what’s what.I’m much better at it now than I was and Svet and Mandy help, too.”

Those had to have been hard lessons to learn judging by how sad Ian sounded. 

Then again, that was one of the great things about Ian.He tried.Where other people born and bred on the Southside never learned to persevere or even try in the first place, Ian had always been a dreamer and he had never shied away from the hard work involved in making a dream a reality. 

Mickey had learned everything he knew about hope from Ian. 

That thought curdled Mickey’s stomach and the anger reignited.Ian might have his shit together now, but it was too little too late for Mickey. 

Ian seemed to know.Again he said, “I’m so sorry.”

Mickey didn’t want to hear any more.He was strung too tight to keep going with this.To put an end to it he said, “Nah, you’re killing it.Look at what you built, man.Can’t be sorry for that.” 

“Crazy, right?”Ian snorted, self deprecating.

“You found a fucking purpose and you ran with it.”


	11. 11. Idea Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys talk a little about Ian’s work.

For the first time in a long time, Mickey woke up feeling rested.He stretched his arms up over his head and yawned.Gingerly, he stretched his feet and then his knees and finally his hips.It felt a little better this morning.

He put a hand on his injured hip and it was still swollen and still a little warmer than he thought it should be, but it was not hurting as badly as it had been most mornings. 

Mickey decided he would take it easy today.Lots of ice, lots of rest, boatloads of boredom. 

He turned on the bedside light having learned it was like a homing beacon for Ian who would turn up within minutes of it coming on.He took his pills and settled back on the pillows.If he could wait out the 45 minutes it would take for the hydrocodone to kick in, getting up would be a lot easier.

There was a soft knock on the door and then it opened.Ian poked his head in looking like he was just waiting for Mickey to wake up so he could go on his daily eight mile run.“How was your night?”

“Better.”Mickey admitted.“Guess I really did need the new meds.”

Ian smiled and came fully into the room, sitting on the edge of the bed.“It takes about two weeks to a month for the Zoloft to kick in.That was just the Prazosin which is effective immediately.”

Mickey snorted.“You sound like a doctor.”

“Funny.”Ian rolled his eyes.“A pharmacist, maybe.”

Mickey nodded, seeing the truth in the statement.There for a little while he had been educating the hell out of himself about Ian’s bipolar and all the meds he was on.The thought upset him so he changed the subject.“How did you sleep?” 

“Pretty good actually.”Ian replied as he surveyed the bedside table with its pill bottles and glass of water.“If it’s cool with you I’m going to go for my run and then attempt to make omelettes or it might end up veggie scrambled eggs.We’ll see how it goes.”

“Sounds good to me.”Mickey shrugged.He knew Ian could at least scramble eggs.Then he set forth his plan for the day.“Maybe we can play Torchlight after?”

Ian’s expression immediately turned apologetic.“Today is the Idea Meeting, but after that, sure.I’d like that.”

“Idea Meeting?”Mickey asked. They had never talked about Ian’s work before and Mickey was admittedly curious.

A smile spread over Ian’s face and Mickey realized this might be the first time since the break up he had expressed an interest in Ian’s life.It made him feel weird.He used to know everything Ian was up to.

“Once a month we get the team together and listen to game ideas.It’s open to everyone at Claymore.If someone has a great idea we build it.”

“So staff just comes in and tells you hey, it’d be cool if you make whatever?”Mickey asked.Until very recently he had never worked at an actual legit job so he wasn’t sure how it worked.He just knew he would be pissed if someone else made millions off one of his ideas.

“Yep.”Ian confirmed, looking pleased with himself.

“Why would they give you their ideas?”Where they grew up people didn’t given anything away free.

Ian shook his head like he knew what Mickey was thinking.“Because Claymore pays them with creative credit and royalties if we make the game.”

“Fuck me, really?”Mickey was surprised.It wasn’t how he imagined it worked when a company had grown as fast as Claymore had.He imagined it being much more cut throat than that, especially with someone like Svetlana helping to run it. 

“Love to,” Ian replied with what Mickey had always thought was his sexiest smirk, “and yes, really.”

“Asshole.” Mickey mumbled, but he could not pretend a little thrill did not jolt through him followed by bile he had to swallow down.Ian presented him with nothing but mixed emotions and conflicting desires.Rather than think about any of that, he tried to ignore it.“I thought you were the creative genius at Claymore.”

“I came up with Survive Southside and Torchlight, but the other four games we have out were originated from staff.I just embellished a little.The janitor came up with the content forHellgate High.”

It was number three on the hits list for Claymore if Mickey remembered correctly. “Well, that’s different.”

“I know, right?Would you believe he’s still the janitor?Says he likes his job, but the man could retire right now on what he made and still makes from that game.”

“Seriously?”Mickey could not imagine wanting to clean toilets if he did not have to.

“Yeah.People don’t quit Claymore.We’ve had three pass away from health issues and two who are in hospice right now, we’ve fired a few for various reasons, but only one employee has quit for non medical reasons since we started.”

Mickey remembered reading about turnover during a management class for his accounting degree.Low employee turnover was a sign of health for any business. In four years they had grown to a company of nearly 400 people.To have turned over just a handful, was pretty remarkable.“What made that guy leave?”

“It was our mistake really.He was a designer.He had an idea but we were so focused on getting Survive Southside out, we didn’t listen to him.He quit and tried to set up his own company, which is no biggie really, but he did it using Garry’s code. Garry was super pissed so Claymore sued.It ended in court and we won, but it sucked.

We didn’t want to go through that again so I thought why not ask people for ideas and pay them for the ones that work out?Why not share profits so people have an investment in the future of the company they work for?”

“You share profits?”Some companies did this to try to retain talent, but few achieved Ian’s minuscule turnover rate.It must be a pretty big share.

“Yeah.That way everyone down to the kid who sorts the mail has a reason to want Claymore to succeed.”

“Huh.” Ian was smarter and more generous than Mickey had given him credit for. 

“We also hire people other companies don’t, like people with disabilities or a criminal history or transgender or whatever.They’re an untapped resource just looking for a chance, you know?I mean, our core group is a bunch of misfits and rejects.I’m bipolar and gay, Svet is a former sex slave, Gary is severely autistic, Mark lost both legs in Afghanistan and our I.T. guy was once on the FBIs most wanted list for cyber crimes.The only ‘normal’ ones in the bunch were our lawyer and the accountant.People who don’t think they have a chance tend to be pretty loyal to whoever gives them one.”

Like a cult leader Ian would prove to the world that different did not equal bad and disabled didn’t mean unable.Mickey remembered reading about a recent lawsuit against the company by an able bodied, college educated, straight white guy who tried to claim he was discriminated against because he didn’t have a disability or criminal record.For obvious reasons the guy lost.Smiling Mickey teased, “So Claymore is a freak fest.”

“And damn proud of it.”Ian replied with a smirk.

“Why isn’t Mandy a part of it?”Mickey had wondered, but never asked his sister.She had never brought it up.Thus it was never discussed.Typical Milkovich.

“She was and she wasn’t.We lived together, so she was there for all of it, but she was doing her own thing.That was important to her, so other than helping her with school, I let it be.”

“Stubborn.”Mickey nodded.Making Mandy do anything she did not want to do was the sole prerogative of Terry Milkovich.No one else got away with it for long if they got away with it at all.Mickey was pretty sure that asshole Kenyatta was dead in a ditch somewhere for trying.

Ian disagreed.“Nah, just making her own way.It’s probably better anyway.This way she can never doubt she got where she’s going on her own.”

“When’s this meeting?”Mickey asked because if it was early they were burning daylight and he didn’t want to make Ian late.

“It’s at ten.Sometimes it goes an hour or two.Sometimes it lasts all day.Depends on what gets presented.”

Ian was not in danger of being late then.“Got it.”

“You can come with me if you want.”Ian suggested.

Mickey eyed the other man for a moment.As tempting as it was to see where Ian worked, Mickey really didn’t want to do anything that might stress his hip.It needed to rest.He needed to rest.“Nah.I’m just gonna take it easy today.Nothing but ice, rest and being bored out of my fucking mind.”

“Mandy has class today from nine to four and then work after.You going to be okay alone?”

Mickey thought about that.All he really had to do was get to the bathroom and the kitchen.Neither of those were far and he had figured out how to get himself up and down on the crutches without assistance.“Like I said, I don’t plan to do anything today.”

“You know Torchlight has a single player mode, right?” 

Mickey knew it did, but he and Ian had been playing together and had joined the first community they had encountered in the underground world of the game.There were 60 players in their community so there would likely be someone online to play with, but the idea of going solo also had it’s appeal.Ian was playing with him a lot and he didn’t want to advance beyond the character Ian was playing.He was glad Ian had offered a solution to that little problem.“So how does that work?You lose your place in the multiplayer?”

“No.You just go out on a foraging expedition.If you can find your way back, you can rejoin your community or a new one if you like.It’s designed so you can be part of a community but also have solo adventures.” 

It was a survival game set in underground caves.Global warming had made it impossible to live above the surface.Humans and animals alike had sought refuge underground.Unfortunately for them, the cave systems they were trying to live in were already occupied by a humanoid race who killed and ate whatever they encountered.

“So I go out to find light, water, food and weapons while trying not to get myself killed.”Sometimes those items were found, but most of the time they had to be stolen off of other players.Mickey was just fine with this since his entire life (until recently) had been spent lining his father’s pockets at the expense of other people.

“Exactly.” Ian nodded.Ian had lived the same way, scamming, stealing and working to ensure his family survived.There were a lot of Ian’s experiences in the game, even if they were a more fantastical version.

“If I die on an expedition, am I dead in the multiplayer?”

“If you get captured, you can either wait out the health clock to be strong enough for another escape attempt or you can buy more health.You only die if you give up.” 

You could get captured by the humanoids called Chiroptas or Chiropteriods, after the vampire bats they resembled in both appearance and diet.There were also rival human communities and animal packs to steal from or be raided by. The game was a complex world of survival of the fittest.

“So what happens if you take a break when you’re captured?”

“You can pause the game as long as you like, unless you get captured.Then your character automatically gets eaten if there is no play for 72 hours.After that, if you want to keep playing you have to pay to be reanimated, which can only be done twice, or create a new character and start over from the beginning.”

“That’s fucked up.” 

Ian shrugged.“Not many people let their characters die.”

“And this is how you got rich.”Because the game allowed for in-app purchases.You could buy health, light, weapons, map fragments and food.Buying any one of them cost both real world cash and the in-game random reduction of one of the other four resources.It was a balancing act and part of what made the game so addictive. There was an opportunity cost to every decision made.

“Yep.”Ian agreed, a smug smile plastered across his face.

Mickey shook his head even as he admired the redheads ingenuity.“You are an evil genius.”

“You’ll need this.”Ian handed him a scrap of paper with a few numbers on it.

“What is it?” 

“An infinity code. It’s good for 24 hours.I have more if we need them later.”Ian replied with a shrug.The game did sometimes offer special codes that enabled players to stay healthy for a certain number of hours, collect a map fragment or accumulate resources faster without opportunity cost.They were rare though and you had to be online when they were offered to get them.

Mickey snorted.“Perks of being the Man.”

“Damn right.”Ian smirked then he stood up and asked, “You need help getting to the bathroom?”

“Not sure.”Mickey replied, pushing the covers back and hooking his left ankle under his right so he could lower his legs over the side of the bed.“So far so good.”

The crutches were propped up on the bedside table within reach, but Ian handed them to him anyway.Mickey was able to push up into a standing position.It hurt, but not as bad as the day before.He took a couple steps toward the bathroom and decided he was fine.“I’m cool.Go for your run, you fucking gazelle.”

“Okay.I’ll be back in about 45 minutes.” And with that Ian left.

***

Ian walked back into his house at a quarter to five.He had texted Mickey to tell him he would be late, but never got a response.He had called to ask what Mickey wanted for dinner so he could pick it up on his way home but that call went unanswered as well.

Stepping out onto the second floor landing the reason why became clear.

Mickey was holed up on the couch playing _Torchlight_ with his feet up on the coffee table and a bag of frozen peas on his hip.There was an empty cereal bowl and a half full water glass on the coffee table.His phone was forgotten on the kitchen counter.No wonder he had not picked up when Ian called.

“Honey, I’m home.” Ian called to announce himself.

Mickey grunted out, “Fuck off.”

“Fine, babe.” Ian retorted with a smirk. 

Mickey put the game on pause and turned so Ian would receive the full force of his annoyed brow arch.Mickey was allowed to call Ian all kinds of nicknames, but the reverse was not allowed.

Nonplussed, Ian gestured toward the TV and asked, “How far did you get?”

“I got captured by Chiroptas and I still haven’t figured out how to get away from those fuckers.This game sucks.”Mickey threw the game controller on the couch for emphasis.

“Says the guy who’s been playing all day.”Ian snorted.He knew how awesome his game was.Almost 200 million people around the world played it and that number grew by the day.

“How did your meeting go?”

“Good. Really good.Got a great idea today for a melee style fighting game that also forces the player to learn a new language.It’s set in feudal Japan.Idea came from a guy who just joined us as a Marketing Assistant.His kid was complaining about how someone should make learning a new language more fun.”

“Our school only had Spanish.”Mickey observed. 

Ian vividly remembered the limited resources available at their shitty high school.

“The kid’s mom is Japanese and she makes him go to classes after school.”As weird as it sounded this was where ideas came from.It made Ian think about recipes where cauliflower could be hidden in mashed potatoes and zucchini in chocolate cupcakes to make kids get their veggies while they thought they were getting a treat.In his mind Ian already had more games set during the American Civil War, the Qin Dynasty, the Spanish Inquisition and the French Revolution.If done right he could revolutionize how people learned languages by combining it with Claymore’s unique brand of game play.

“That makes more sense.”Mickey conceded.“So if you make the game the marketing guy gets royalties?”

Ian nodded. “And concept credit.”

“That’s just nuts.” 

It was, because if they did expand it past feudal Japan into the other languages Ian wanted to make, how did they handle that?Concept credit for sure, but should royalties be included for new games in other languages?He would let the lawyers sort it out if they got that far.Ideas were one thing.Finished, playable games were another.“It’s one of the reasons we have very loyal employees.”

“You eat already?”Mickey asked in that tone of voice Ian recognized as hopeful.He was hoping Ian had not.

“Nah, I was gonna pick something up on the way home, but you didn’t answer my call or my texts.”Ian chastened, letting his gaze slide over to the phone sitting on his white quartz countertop.

“Uber Eats?”Mickey asked, a smirk on his face and a light in his eyes that made Ian’s heart flip flop.Mickey’s guard was starting to come down.

Ian whipped out his phone with a flourish.“Per usual.What’re you in the mood for tonight?”

“Could go for Chinese.”

“How about Japanese?”Ian asked.He had Japan on his mind and the idea of sushi made his mouth water.

“I’m not eating raw fish.”Mickey immediately rejected the idea.

Ian held back a sigh.He was constantly reminding himself that while his world had expanded exponentially in the past six years, Mickey’s had contracted to an 8’x8’ cell. 

Ian’s version of normal was not the same as Mickey’s and it was not only unfair but unhelpful to push too hard.“It doesn’t have to be sushi.I’ll get you something I know you’ll eat and something you might like if you try it, how about it?”

“You’re not gonna make me eat raw fish.That’s fucking disgusting.”Mickey reiterated. 

“Nothing raw, I promise.”Ian remembered when he thought all Japanese food was sushi and how intimidated he had been by the idea of eating raw fish.Then he had found himself at a dinner meeting in Tokyo where to refuse would have been devastating to Claymore and he had given it a shot.It turned out to be a reminder about the importance of trying new things.He fell in love with sushi and if it was not for the potential overexposure to mercury would have eaten it a lot more than he did.

“Fine.”Mickey conceded as he usually did when Ian asked him to step out of his comfort zone.That he could still get Mickey to do things like this made Ian hope somehow they could once again be a couple.Mickey wouldn’t let him have this level of influence if it weren’t a possibility.

Ian chose his favorite sushi place and scanned the menu making choices he knew Mickey would like as well as some of his own favorites.When he was done he announced, “Food should be here in 45 minutes.We can have some sake with it too if you want.”

“Sake?” 

“Japanese rice wine.Most of it’s shit, but I have a few bottles of Aramasa I really liked.”

Mickey immediately disagreed.“No thanks.No alcohol for me right now.”

Ian was surprised by this response but he wasn’t going to argue.He didn’t drink much himself these days.Neither of them smoked anymore either which Ian never in a million years would have predicted.He would have assumed if Mickey lived long enough, lung cancer would kill him. 

He had asked why Mickey quit and almost had his head bitten off. He still wondered, but not enough to ask again.Anyway, he knew what Mickey really wanted anyway.“No problem.You want a Coke instead?”

“You got me Coke?”Blue eyes lit up with surprise.

“I only got a six pack of the mini cans, but yes, I got you Coke.”Ian conceded.He wanted Mickey to be happy at his house.He was hoping maybe if Mickey’s convalescence lasted six to eight weeks the brunette would get so comfortable living with Ian he wouldn’t want to leave.

“Ain’t you a saint.”Mickey snorted.

Ian smiled, flirting a little.“Just trying to woo you back through your taste buds.”

“Woo?”Both eyebrows nearly hit Mickey’s hairline.“Okay, Jane Austin, if it involves more Coke and some Pringles you go right ahead and try to woo me.”

Ian had been hoping for something like that.Heading into the kitchen and reaching up in to one of the cabinets that was too high for Mickey to reach without a stool Ian pulled out a can of barbecue flavored Pringles.He held it out in front of him like a weapon.“Tada!”

“Be still my fucking heart.”Mickey mockingly clasped a hand to his chest before holding the other hand out for the can.

Ian walked over to the couch and handed Mickey a small can of Coke and the Pringles.The look on Mickey’s face was almost comical in it’s joy.Hiding a smirk, Ian announced, “I’m going to shower and change before the food gets here.Be back in a few.”

***

Mickey had not seen Ian leave for work that morning.After the egg and veggie scramble he had stayed in bed and rested most of the morning until his stomach dragged him out of bed and downstairs to the kitchen.

The Ian who had returned tonight looked fucking amazing.He had been wearing a dark purple V neck sweater over darker trousers that up close had a very subtle plaid of the same purple color, emerald green, cobalt blue and black. 

The sweater skimmed his body and the trousers hugged his ass.The deep autumn red of his hair and the dark green of his eyes contrasted with the purple deliciously.He looked like a fucking model, not like the Southside trash he actually was.

Mickey wondered if Ian always dressed like that for the office because at home he was all about tee shirts and sweatpants. 

Now was no exception. 

Ian came down the stairs in a clingy black tee and gray sweats.His feet were bare and his hair was still wet and already curling.His exposed arms were thicker and more sculpted than Mickey remembered.The grey sweat pants were doing their job and it was clear if Ian was wearing underwear at all, they were loose fitting boxers.

He was fucking beautiful and Mickey’s dick twitched.

Being around Ian was hard, pardon the pun.The man was sex on a stick.He also knew exactly what Mickey liked and Ian was serving it up on a silver platter. 

Just as Mickey’s mind started to wander, his stomach turned.Maybe Ian did have a magic cock, but Mickey couldn’t appreciate it anymore.Terry had finally been successful in his efforts to turn his son straight, or at least turn him into a gay man who could no longer enjoy sex.

Mickey could get hard, a mild breeze could get him hard like he was still a teenager and he had wet dreams like a 12 year old, but when awake he could not reach completion because of the images that always seeped into his mind no matter how much he resisted them.If he resisted too hard, it would turn into a panic attack.

If anyone wondered why he was in an almost permanent bad mood, that was why. 

Ian had no way to know this nor would Mickey ever tell him. 

Jesus, Mickey thought as Ian sat beside him on the couch and adjusted himself. 

Mickey’s mouth watered with desire and bile and he wanted to either scream or break something.It was unfair.So fucking unfair.

Ian was oblivious.“You wanna keep playing?I can come find you.If we’re lucky I can rescue you.”

Please rescue me, Mickey thought but would never say.It felt unreal to even think such a thing.Instead he kept up appearances setting aside the game controller.“Nah, I draw the line at 10 hours.”

“Wanna watch a Segal movie?”Ian offered.

Okay, that was just weird.“Seriously?Segal?You hate Segal.”

Ian shrugged.“True, but I love you, so there’s that.”

It was the first time Mickey had ever heard Ian say those words.Bailey, his nurse from the hip replacement, told him Ian had said it in the PACU and Mandy had confirmed, but Mickey did not remember.Those were words he had wanted to hear six years ago, but today it felt like too little, too late.“You don’t even know me anymore.”

“I do know you and I finally know myself.” Ian insisted, chin rising in defiance of Mickey’s skepticism. “I love you.I’ve never loved anyone else.I don’t think I ever will.” 

Mickey avoided Ian’s gaze and stared at the fireplace in front of him.“I hope that ain’t true ‘cause you’re gonna have to.”

Ian gave a solemn shake of his head.“You’re it for me.”

The rage that lived inside Mickey bubbled up.He was not even sure what he was so mad at: Ian for leaving him and coming back when Mickey was too broken to accept him, Terry for breaking him or the world at large for fucking him over.“Fuck you, Gallagher.Just fuck you.I wasn’t it six years ago.I’m not it now.”

Huge green eyes met angry blue ones.“Didn’t you read my letters?”

“Why the fuck would I?I was in literal hell and you finally got around to sending me a fucking note?So fucking what?”

Ian could no longer sit still.He jumped to his feet and started pacing, gesturing as he went.“I couldn’t come see you, which is what I wanted to do.I wasn’t on your list anymore.You barely saw Svetlana or Mandy and when you did you wouldn’t let them talk about me.All I could do was write to you which I did, every week. Didn’t you open any of them?”

Mickey had held each and every one of those letters, all 234 of them, in his hands for hours at a time debating whether or not to open them.Some had been thick like Ian had poured out his soul on paper and some so thin Mickey thought the envelope might be empty.Each time, in the end, he chose not to open them.“What was the point?You apologize, great. You feel better.I’m still trapped in hell.I was on a 15 year sentence, out in eight if I was super lucky.I wasn’t going to get lucky, motherfucker.Terry...he...I...”

Mickey trailed off, unable to say what he probably should.At first he had not opened the letters because he was pissed off and didn’t want to read the excuses and apologies he assumed the letters contained.Later he didn’t open them because he recognized the hopelessness of it.Even if by some miracle he got out in eight years, he would be 27 and Ian would be 25. That was too much time to pick up where they left off.Ian would have a whole new life by then.Mickey would not.He would be an even more stunted, repressed, pathetic version of his 19 year old self with far fewer prospects and no hope. 

Ian seemed to know what he was thinking. “I can’t imagine what you went through, but the only thing that mattered to me once I got my shit together was you.”

Mickey did not buy that for a second for one very good reason.“Oh, so the millions were justsomething you lucked into?”

“You know what I was thinking about when we were developing _Survive Southside_?You.I based the game on _you_.If you’d ever play it, you would know that.I was hoping if it was good enough maybe I could make enough money to hire a lawyer to get you out.”Ian laughed a little at that, like it was ironic somehow.

“But you didn’t.The Innocence Project....” Mickey trailed off.He had always wondered and chosen not to think too hard about how the organization had found him.

Ian rolled his eyes.“You are not that dumb.You have never been that dumb.”

“That was you.”Of course it was. 

“I made her lie and tell you it was the Innocence Project, which she did work for occasionally, just not in your case.I wasn’t sure you would accept the help if you knew it was me.”

Mickey considered that.He would have taken help from almost anyone by the time the lawyer, Sheila Dennis, came to see him.Would he have refused if he had known it was Ian?Probably not, but he could understand why Ian would think so.

It made him irrationally angry to have been tricked into accepting help.How indebted to Ian was he for his freedom?

“Did you know?”Mickey whipped around on Mandy who had just walked in carrying bags from the Japanese restaurant Ian had ordered from.

Looking like a deer in headlights Mandy asked, “Know what?”


	12. 12. Mandy Drops a Bomb

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mickey and Mandy have some shared life experiences they’ve never talked about, until now.

“The lawyer. Did you know about her?”

Her gaze darted between the two men.Mickey was still sitting on the couch in front of the TV looking thunderous.Ian walked into the kitchen and took the bags from her.He shrugged.“I told him.”

She glared at him.Why the hell had Ian told him? What had they been arguing about?Too late now.The cat was out of the bag. “Yes, fuck face, I knew.”

There was an artery pulsing on Mickey’s forehead he was so mad.Screw him.As if he would not have jumped at the chance to get out of prison no matter who offered it.

His pride had taken a hit, that was all.The trouble with Milkovich men was they were proud which was ironic given where they lived and how they kept a roof over their heads, but pride did not have a price tag or a zip code.

Maybe he was worrying about the debt he thought he now owed, also typical of Milkoviches.

Mandy sighed. 

She had only come back to change clothes before she left again to go to her job.She did not have time for this, but looking between the pair of idiots before her, she was going to have to sort this out before she could leave.

Deciding to tackle the more irrational of the two first, she stepped into the living room with her hands fisted on her hips.“What did you expect?You didn’t belong there and I couldn’t stand by and let our psychopath father keep hurting you.He was going to kill you, so yes, when Ian said he was getting you a lawyer I helped.I figured you’d be an asshole about it like you are whenever someone helps you so I suggested using the Innocence Project as a cover.We hadto get you out of there, Mickey.”

“What do you know?” Mickey asked, mostly mocking, but with a hint of a question.His anger had a tinge of fear in it now.

“You put me down as your next of kin.”Mandy reminded him.“Who do you think they called every time you were sent to the ICU?Four times, Mickey!Four times I told them to do everything they could for you while prison guards scowled at me and damn doctors treated me like trash.”

“I never saw you.”

“They wouldn’t let me see you, they just needed me to sign papers.”It had killed her to be so close to her brother knowing he was suffering and not be able to see him, but the prison guards had been adamant and the hospital staff had followed their lead. 

There was a long silence during which Ian gave her a weighted look and retreated further into the kitchen leaving the siblings alone.Mickey did not say anything.He just stared at the empty fireplace.Mandy was about to go upstairs to change since the conversation seemed over, but then Mickey said quietly, “Shoulda let me die.” 

Without having to ask, Mandy knew what was on Mickey’s mind.She decided she was just going to be late for work and sat down on the couch so close to him she could lean on him.He squirmed a bit, but she rested her head on his shoulder anyway.“I thought about it the last time, but I wasn’t going to let dad win.I wasn’t going to let you let him win, not like that.”

“I wanted to die.”Mickey admitted as he rubbed at his face the way he always did when he was trying to hide his emotions.

“If you’d really wanted to die, you would have, but every time you were in ICU you fought. So I had to fight for you, too.”Mandy lifted off his shoulder and faced him.They had let her loiter around the hospital until Mickey was downgraded from the ICU.The doctors and nurses, many of whom had cared for him each time he’d come in, had to talk to her about his care.All of them had told her what a fighter her brother was. 

“You don’t understand.”He said to the fireplace.The anger had largely dissipated, but the fear was growing.He was fidgety and his knee had started to bounce.

“I do, Mickey.”Better than he knew.Again she wondered if she should tell him about the abortion, but it didn’t seem like the right time.Not when his hands were shaking and his knee was bouncing and he looked like he was about to bolt. She took a breath and softly said,“I know what happened to you.They had to tell me so I could make decisions.”

“Fuck you,” he growled, grabbing the crutches beside him and jumping up to his feet so fast his weak knee popped.He flinched and started hobbling toward the elevator.Over his shoulder he said, “You don’t know shit.”

***

As Mickey quickly hobbled past, Ian gave Mandy a confused look. She knew he had given them space and she knew he was probably dying of curiosity but it was Mickey’s story to tell, not hers.She shook her head at the redhead. 

Mickey made it to the elevator, stabbing furiously at the button until it opened.His face was sheet white.

“Mick?” Ian called as the elevator door closed behind Mickey.He turned to Mandy.“What the hell was that?”

“He has panic attacks sometimes.” Mandy replied.Ian knew he had PTSD.Panic attacks were just part of that.Still, “Tell him I told you and I’ll cut off your balls and feed them to you.Let me handle it.”

“That explains some things.”Ian came around the counter, green eyes wide with concern.“But...”

“No buts, Ian.If he wants to tell you he will.Until then you just have to leave it alone, okay?Just let me talk him off the ledge and then I’ve got to go to work.”

Ian glanced at the clock over the kitchen table.“You’re going to be late.”

“I know.They’ll just have to deal with it.”

“I’ll put this up, I guess.Thanks for bringing it in.”Ian made a sweeping gesture towards the bags of food Mandy had brought in after she ran into the delivery man at the door. 

Ian turned toward the fridge.Mandy ignored him and bounded up the two flights of stairs to the forth floor and paused.What could she possibly say to Mickey?

Finally she just let herself into his room without any sort of preamble or knocking or plan.

Mickey was sitting on the side of the bed and his head swung up fast when he heard her.“Fuck, I thought you’d be Ian.I Love Lucy never can let anything go.”

Mandy smiled.Ian was tenacious like that.She walked in and sat on the corner of the bed near Mickey but not touching him.“I told him like I’ve always told him that if he really wants to know he’s going to have to get the story from you.”

“You didn’t tell him?”

Mandy rolled her eyes and punched him in the arm.“Fuck no.Look, he’s my best friend, but you’re my brother.Milkoviches don’t rat, especially not on each other.”

Mickey nodded and then fell back on the bed.He put an arm over his eyes.“I’m a mess.”

She flopped down beside him.Mickey was not one to say things like that.He bullied his way through with false bravado and a sneer.She didn’t know how to deal with a vulnerable Mickey.Perhaps commiseration would help.“I’m no better.”

He snorted.“You had it easy, princess.”

“That’s what you think.”Of course he thought that.She had never given him a reason to think otherwise.His discounting of her pain, even if he was ignorant of the cause, pissed her off.She decided to tell him.“Do you remember my abortion?”

“Yeah, so?” He pulled his arm away from his face and looked over at her.

Mandy huffed in a breath and said it.“When he was drunk Terry sometimes came into my room.”

Mickey lay there staring at her for a moment comprehension dawning slowly until he suddenly sat up. “The fuck!?Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?”

Mandy sat up too.She was surprised at how fast the anger evaporated and calm set in.It was like discussing the weather or something.She felt detached from it.“So you could go apeshit and get yourself killed?”

Mickey made like he was going to stand and then thought better of it.His hands balled into fists, the last remnants of his FUCK U-UP tattoos barely visible against whitened knuckles.“I would have killed him.”

“Which is why I didn’t tell you.”As a kid she had thought Mickey was tough as nails, and he was, but not like the other Milkoviches.He had the expected menacing aura and vicious fists, but he differed from the rest of his family in one critical area.He could beat someone half to death and deal with body disposal, but pushed to the point of murder, he hesitated. 

There was a point at which anyone could become a killer, but Mickey’s was a lot further out than the rest of his family’s.She sort of loved that about him.It was a purity none of the rest of them had.

He swallowed and rubbed at his face.One of his hands shot out and grabbed hers in a vice grip Mandy was sure he intended to be comforting rather than crushing.“How long?” 

“Since mom died.”She admitted. 

“Fuck.” He muttered.He rubbed at his eyes again. “Jesus, Mands.The fuck you tell me this now for?”

“Because you’re freaking out about what happened to you.” She replied, pulling closer to him and squeezing his hand back hard.“I thought maybe if you knew about me it would make it easier.You’d have someone to talk to.”

“Wow.”Mickey fell back on the bed again, pulling her down next to him and then tugging her closer so her head was resting on his chest.It was the most affectionate thing he had ever done.

It gave her the confidence to press on.“Ian helped me raise the money for the abortion.Lip too.Actually, all the Gallaghers helped.When we had enough money to get it done Ian went with me to the clinic.”

“So you can tell them, but not me?”Mickey asked, running a hand through her hair.

“It was safer for both of us.”She replied, surprised he was surprised.They had not been very close back then and even if they had been, keeping it from him was not a lack of trust so much as knowing what the reaction would be and what it could cost them both.More important to the topic at hand was the fact that,“Ian never judged me.He never said shit about it.None of the Gallaghers did.Ian didn’t get all sappy like he does sometimes and he also didn’t go apeshit trying to kill dad.It’s like he just processed it, you know?Not like he could do anything about it anyway.”

“I woulda...”

“It wasn’t your fault, Mickey.It wasn’t my fault either.Our dad’s a fucking monster.”Mandy cut him off.Her intention had not been to make him feel guilty but to help him understand his experience was shared.

They lay there silently for a while, his hand running through her hair as she hugged her arm around his chest.It was nice.Comfortable.Safe.Mickey broke the silence asking, “When did it stop?”

“When you came out and his ass went back to jail.By the time he got out again I was long gone with Kenyatta.Talk about trading one monster for another.I was so fucking stupid.”

Mickey didn’t disagree. 

How could he?Kenyatta had been such a bad decision.It took a while, but she eventually figured that out and escaped him.She worked as an escort for a time, but after her client tried to kill her and ended up dead himself, Mandy decided she needed to really think about where her life was going.She had seen what happened to escorts when they lost their looks or became too addicted to maintain a classy facade.She had already been beaten and raped enough for several lifetimes. 

Mandy had always dreamed of kids, but she didn’t want to raise them the way she had been raised.She had to change her life.

Ironically, the death of her client had reconnected her with Ian who had also been starting to pull himself together.He had just finished up his GED and convinced her to try for hers, too.Ian was going to community college to become an EMT.She didn’t know what she wanted to do, she just knew she had to do something different with her life. 

She passed on the first try.She applied for and got a little scholarship money for both of them.They made up the difference with student loans and his work at the gay bar while she still saw a few of her regular clients. 

Then Ian took a game design class and his life radically changed.Mandy was happy for him, but she was not going to ride his coat tails like Svetlana.She did let him pay off her student loans though.

Mandy dated some, but every man she liked was just another version of Kenyatta in different skin.She was all done selling herself short, which was why she was currently single.She did not trust her own taste and she thought maybe she should see a shrink like her brother and best friend before she launched herself back into the dating world.

“Makes me wonder what he did to our brothers.”Mickey muttered.

Mandy nodded and snuggled in a little closer to Mickey.“I always wondered why he was easy on Iggy but not on the rest of you.Not sure I want to know though.”

“Iggy probably wouldn’t tell us anyway.”Mickey said, sounding a million miles away.

Mandy agreed.There had to be a reason Iggy isolated himself in clouds of smoke.They each coped in different ways, but only Mickey really had a chance at happiness.If he would let himself have it.“You should tell Ian.”

Mickey pushed her away from him and sat up.Blue eyes glared at her.

Mandy rose up to her elbows.“Seriously.He was really cool about what happened to me.”

“Because Kash was a fucking pedo.” Mickey muttered.

“Maybe.” Mandy had never liked that man. Ian had been 14 when they started fucking.The guy creeped her out even before she knew about him and Ian.After, she avoided the Kash & Grab as much as possible.

“You knew about that?”

“Duh.Of course I knew.I knew about Ned, too.The only one he hid from me was you.” She would never forget the day she learned her brother was Ian’s secret crush.It had been at Mickey’s sham of a wedding.That day she and Lip broke up, she met Kenyatta and a drunk and miserable Ian spilled the beans.He never would have done that sober.When thinking about it after the fact, she really had not been that surprised.Mickey always had been different.“You should talk to him.He understands better than you think he does.”

“Can’t.”Mickey growled.

Mandy was not having it.“More like won’t, ass wipe.” 

Mickey slumped.“You don’t understand.”

“Are you kidding me?I totally fucking understand.”She knew what it was like to have choice taken from her.She knew what it felt like to be used.Granted, it was not the same as being gang raped on your father’s orders, but being raped _by_ your own father had to at least run a close second.Mickey ended up in the ICU.She ended up aborting her first child.It was fucked up.Having someone in her life who knew and didn’t judge had helped.“Ian will, too.”

Mickey was quiet for a long moment during which his leg started to bounce again.“The fuck I care what Ian thinks?”

Mandy put a hand on his bouncing leg and it stilled.“You still love him.Anyone who looks at the two of you together can tell.”

“Fuck off.”Again he pushed her away from himself.

“I mean, I can’t imagine it would be easy with all the crap you put each other through in the past.Since then you’ve been through some shit.Ian’s been through some shit.You’re both fucked up, but you’re both working on it now.If you give it half a chance, Mickey, you can make it work for real this time.”

Mickey sighed and rubbed at his face.“You don’t get it.”

This was the wall she was all to familiar with.Mickey had gone as far as he was going to go.

Not wanting to waste her time, she stood and said,“Nut up, Milkovich.I’m late for work.”


	13. 13. The Mountain Goes to Mohammed: the Redux

It was the middle of the night and Mickey was wide awake.

He had only seen Ian briefly when he poked his head in to ask if Mickey wanted dinner.Mickeyhad been too upset to eat. 

Instead he was thinking about what Mandy had told him.Raped by her own father.Impregnated even, forced to abort a baby when her childhood dream had been to get married and have a family of her own. 

Once again, he owed Ian his gratitude.Ian had been with her through it.Back when she was his ‘girlfriend’ and even after when she started messing around with Lip, Ian had shown himself a true friend to his sister.

It was more than Mickey had ever done for her.He had been too caught up in his own shit to see what was happening to his sister one room over.

Jesus.

What an asshole he was.

A soft knock on the door preceded it opening and a red head poking through.“Mickey, you awake?”

“Fuck off, fire crotch.”Mickey could not deal with Ian right now.He was too busy hating himself for being a shit brother.

Undeterred, Ian shuffled into the room shadowed against the light from the hallway.“Can’t sleep.”

“Obviously.”Mickey muttered.He had seen that bend in the shoulders and droop of the head before.It worried him.Mickey switched on the light and pulled himself up in bed.He would have to deal with this.“Why not?”

“Too much on my mind.”Ian replied, closing the door softly behind him and moving over toward the opposite side of the bed.“Can I?”

It made Mickey’s stomach twist.“You’re not sleeping here.” 

“Just wanted to sit for a minute.”

How many nights had he dreamed of having Ian in his bed again?More times than he could count and here Ian was asking for just that.Desire warred with fear for a moment, but in the end Mickey never had been very good at saying no to Ian.Especially when the ginger menace looked stressed.

“Whatever, man.But you stay on your side, got it?”He would regret allowing this.“What’s on your mind?”

Ian stretched out on top of the covers and rearranged the pillows a little before he spoke.“Lots of things.Keep thinking about the new Japanese game concept.I’ve got so many ideas I can’t sleep.So that makes me wonder if I’m just excited or if I’m a little manic.Can’t tell yet. That’s messing with me.Then there’s us.”

“There is no us.”Mickey replied.He was not going to put himself through that again.Besides, everything was different now.He could not give Ian what he wanted anymore.

Ian turned his head and looked at Mickey, green eyes earnest and vulnerable.“That’s what I keep thinking about.Why is there no us, Mickey?”

Mickey was not having it.He could withstand puppy dog eyes.He needed to put a fast stop to this line of conversation and get them onto the much more alarming topic of possible mania.“Because you fucking left me.”

“You left me, too.”Ian retorted.Apparently despite the slumped body language, there was some fight in him tonight.“You got yourself thrown in juvie twice just to avoid me.You got married.”

Well, shit.He could not deny it.Juvie had been the only place where he was, ironically, safe enough to think about things.It was also the best place to wait for Terry to cool off. 

The marriage had been a whole other thing most of which Mickey did not want to think about.Point was, there had been no defined relationship between them back then, or ever really.“True, but back then we were just fucking.”

Ian sighed and wiped at his face.“Maybe you were just fucking.I was never just fucking, Mickey.”

Mickey snorted.“Uh huh, so what was with all the guys on the side then?”

Ian was quiet for a long time, then he said, “They gave me things.”

“Things I couldn’t.”Mickey had always hated he couldn’t do more, but he didn’t have shit so he couldn’t give shit.Hard to compete against expensive gifts, top shelf drinks and room service.

“Nah, it wasn’t like that.” Ian disagreed. “Kash was convenient and safe.He had more to lose than I did.With Ned it was like getting a glimpse of a life I would never have.It felt powerful,like I was the one using him for Cubs tickets and gifts, you know?” 

Mickey could almost understand this.Almost.Ian was a second son and third child.He was as overlooked as he was relied on for most of his childhood.Mickey had seen that right away.He never understood why Fiona and Lip were blind to it.Taking him for granted made Ian vulnerable because being special, feeling important and supported even if it was just a scam to get some kiddie ass, those were things Ian didn’t get anywhere else.“Fucking pedophiles.”

“Yeah, but I thought since I was fucking them, I was the one in control.” Ian said after a long moment.Then he mumbled, “Wasn’t true though.”

Mickey let that sink in for a moment.It was not the words so much as the tone of voice and body language.He hated seeing Ian ashamed.“You were a fucking kid.Not your fault, man.”

Ian did not respond.He just stared at the blank TV screen in front of him.He looked so lost.

Feeling a lot like he had felt back when he realized something was very wrong with Ian, Mickey flailed around for a way to change the subject.They had never been the best talkers.Ian was secretive and quiet about himself.Always had been.Mickey was little better, but four years of therapy had taught him a thing or two about communicating.He would not call himself good at it, but he was better than he used to be. He decided to change the subject by asking a question he had wanted an answer to for a long time.“I always wondered, why me?”

“I dunno.Never in a million years would’ve thought you’re gay.And a bottom?It was too good to be true.You were my age. Your grew up like I did.I didn’t have to pretend with you.And the sex, man, that was the best sex I’ve ever had.”

“Huh.” Mickey grunted, not believing that for a second.

Ian always seemed to know when Mickey was starting to feel down on himself.He added, “I know you don’t believe me, but it’s true.Best. Sex. Ever.Besides, not sure if you knew, but I didn’t have a lot of friends.Too busy with work, school and dealing with my family shit.With you it was like getting sex and a friend.That was so cool.”

“Right.” Mickey had felt exactly the same way, not that he would ever say it.

“I knew who I was pretty early and it scared me, but there wasn’t anything I could do about it.Somehow being with you made me feel better about just being me. I wasn’t conflicted about it anymore even if you were.”

“Didn’t have a choice.”Coming out was the single stupidest thing he had ever done in his life.He had known how his father would react.He had known he would never be forgiven.At the time he wanted to stay with Ian more than he apparently wanted to live.In retrospect, he should have kept his damn trap shut.

“I know. I shouldn’t have made you...”

Mickey did not want to talk about it.What was done was done.Could not undo it.“You know why I stuck with you?”

“No.Why?”

“At first it was because I knew you wouldn’t say shit.Too much to lose being gay in our shit hole neighborhood.And my dad?Forget about it.You weren’t that stupid.”Ian was actually pretty smart as he proved with his gaming company.He was also fucking relentless when he was serious about something. 

Ian still looked down.Mickey rolled his eyes and threw the redhead a bone, “And the sex was awesome.”

“Yeah.It was.” Ian agreed.“When did you realize we weren’t just fuck buddies anymore?”

Mickey had not wanted to ever have this conversation.Why he had brought it up now was beyond him.He could put an end to it, but the fragile look on Ian’s face and his worries he might be going manic again made Mickey answer the question.“When I was sitting in juvie the first time.” 

“That early?” Ian asked, surprised.“You hid it well.”

“It wasn’t what I wanted.”Right after being gay, the last thing he had wanted was a relationship.He had never seen a good one. He had no examples of how to love someone.He did not want to learn the ins and outs of romance with a guy either.He had still been trying to make himself straight at that point.“I just wanted to get fucked sometimes, no strings attached.”

“There are always strings.”Ian shook his head, his expression grave.

Mickey knew this all too well.“Tell me something I don’t know.”

Should not have said that.He was only adding fuel to the dark mood Ian was slipping into.This looked a whole lot more like depression than mania to Mickey.He struggled for a way to stop it, but before he could get any words out, Ian quietly said, “Then there was...that day.”

They had never really talked about ‘that day’.None of them had, well, maybe Ian and Svetlana had, but Mickey had not.He had been concussed and terrified for his life and for Ian’s.He had done what he had to do to appease his enraged, psychotic, homophobic father.He preferred not to think about it in any way, except the only good thing that came out of it even if it had taken him a while to appreciate it.“At least I got Yev.”

Ian nodded and they were quiet for a while.It was long enough for Mickey to start beating himself up about Mandy again.

When Ian did start talking again it might have been a blessing except the redhead said, “I think it was the trigger for my bipolar.I started going off the rails right after that.”

Another thing for Mickey to beat himself up with, great.It wasn’t like the idea had never crossed his mind before.All he had needed to do was finish one fucking sentence and Ian would not have run away to the Army and then fallen completely apart.Dr. Mohammed said the bipolar would have happened anyway, but Mickey still could not quite bring himself to believe it.“Yeah, looking back I think that was the start, too.”

“You stuck with me anyway.”Ian said quietly.

“Tried to.”Mickey agreed.“You didn’t make it easy.”

“Nothing is easy with bipolar.”

That was not a good tone of voice.The look on Ian’s face was equally scary.Mickey scrambled for something to say.He ended up with, “Nothing worth having is ever easy.Period.”

This did not have the desired effect.Ian looked and sounded even worse.“I was worth it back then, but I’m not now?”

Mickey wanted to bang his head against a wall.Jesus.“That’s not what I fucking meant and you know it.A lot’s changed since then.We’re not who we used to be.”

Ian quietly disagreed.“We’ve added new experiences and those have changed us some, but we’re still us.”

“Are you serious?” Mickey asked, incredulous.He gestured wildly around himself.“Look around you, man.The fuck you call all this?”

“Stuff.I call it stuff.I’ve got money now, yeah, but I’m still Ian Gallagher from the Southside.Who I am doesn’t suddenly change just because I’m rich.”

Okay, so maybe Ian had a point there, but it did not mean he was the same guy anymore.He had a completely new life. He drank La Croix for fuck’s sake.“Maybe not, but you’re still different.”

“Says the only Milkovich in history to graduate college.” Ian retorted with an eye roll. 

Ian had him there, but the circumstances were way different.“You’re just proving my fucking point.We’re different now.”

Ian’s chin came up, even in his current low state of mind he was nothing if not stubborn.“Fine.We’re different.How I feel about you isn’t.”

Mickey sighed, dragging a tired hand down his face.“You gotta stop pushing, Gallagher.”

“I just want you to know.”Ian shrugged. 

“I got it, okay?Message received.”Mickey was beginning to have moments where he forgot why this was such a bad idea.He had never forgotten about Ian, not even when he had done everything in his power to banish the red head from his mind.It was only getting harder the more time they spent together. 

“Sorry.You’re right.I am pushing too hard.I just feel like so much time was lost.I don’t want to waste another second.”

“Yeah, well, time stopped for me.See? Different.”

“It’s been six months.”

“That’s nothing compared to five and a half years.I got a lot of shit to work out still.”It was the understatement of a lifetime.

“So I just need to be patient.Is that what you’re saying?”

“No, that is not what I’m saying.I’m saying you should just forget about it.”Mickey sighed. 

“Ask me for something I can actually do, Mick.”

“Fuck, Gallagher.Stop pushing.”

***

“Mickey.How was your week?”Dr. Mohammed asked as Mickey hobbled into his office and sat down in the tall chair he had used the last time he had been here.

“Shitty.”

Dr. Mohammed sat down on the lower couch and opened his note book to a clean page.“Okay.Why?”

“How much time you got?”Mickey snarked.Ian had practically had to drag him into the car to get him here.He had not wanted to see the shrink today.

Dr. Mohammed smiled and gave the same answer he always gave.“An hour.”

Fine.They were going to do this.“My hip is healing hella slow.My sister dropped a huge fucking bomb on me.Ian’s worried he might be going manic again.He’s also all over me about getting back together.When I’m not dealing with all that shit I’m bored as fuck. So life’s great, you know?”

The expression on Dr. Mohammed’s face grew concerned.“What is Gonzo saying about your hip?”

“That I need to take it easy and not push it too hard.”He had been back for his second weekly visit the day prior and while it was better, it was not as good as Dr. Gonzalez thought it should be. “PT is going slower than he thought.Latest prediction is I’ll be out the full eight weeks, but he looks at me like he’s worried.I really don’t want to get cut again.”

“What are the conditions that would indicate the need for further surgery?”

“It’s the muscles torn up by that backed out screw.If they don’t heal up right he’ll have to go back in to remove scar tissue and stitch what’s left back together.That could set me back another four to eight weeks.”

“Very well, what can you do to avoid this?” 

“Do my best geriatric impression and be bored out of my fucking mind.”It had only been two weeks and Mickey was already going stir crazy.He was usually a pretty active guy and sitting around doing nothing sucked.Mandy was in and out and Ian was home most of the time, but he spent a lot of time in his home office.Svetlana brought Yevgeny over on weekends, but this still left Mickey alone much of the time with only video games and TV for company. 

Dr. Mohammed smiled and made a notation in his book.“Or, you could focus on taking care of yourself and find something to fill your time.Have you thought about taking the CPA exam?”

“What’s with you and more school always being the answer to everything?”Mickey asked.This guy and Dr. Peterson had been the ones who got him through his GED and bachelor’s degree which he was grudgingly grateful for. 

“It’s something constructive to do.”

“I’ll think about it.”Mickey replied.Tom, his boss, had mentioned how helpful that would be along with a few other certifications he wanted Mickey to consider.Maybe it was time to seriously look into it.

Apparently done with that topic, Dr. Mohammed moved on.“What was the issue with your sister?”

Mickey sighed.He did not really want to talk about this, but knew he needed to.It was either talk to Mo or talk to Ian so it was a no brainer really.He had been torturing himself with it since she told him so it felt kinda good to unload it on someone else.When he was done telling the story he asked, “How did I not notice?”

“Two things.” Dr. Mohammed finished making another note in his book and then looked at Mickey with gentle brown eyes. “First, it is good that you are feeling empathy for your sister.Remember when we met and you thought you were a sociopath?Sociopaths are unable to feel empathy.Ergo, in this moment you have just proven beyond doubt you are not a sociopath.”

Mickey rolled his eyes.“Great, so feeling like an asshole is a good thing.Next?”

“Tell me, if you had known back when it was happening, what could you have done?”

That was a no brainer.“Kill the bastard.”

Dr. Mohammed sighed and proceeded to walk him through Mandy’s probable motivations for keeping the secret and how those related to the circumstances in which they lived and what she thought her brothers might do in response. 

Apparently, Mickey was supposed to accept her not telling him as an act of love.She didn’t want him to face the fall out of murdering a parent.Whatever.

Dr. Mohammed seemed to realize he was talking to a wall and changed the subject to the next topic on Mickey’s list.“Do you think Ian is going manic?”

“Dunno.He’s worried he is.”

“What does your gut say?”

“I’ve seen him manic.This ain’t it.”Ian had been a sad sack the night they talked sitting on Mickey’s bed.Since then Ian had seemed okay.It was clear he was holding himself in check with regards to relationship talk per Mickey’s request. 

It was also clear he was really excited about the new game because that was pretty much all he talked about in between long, forlorn looks that made Mickey’s skin crawl.“My gut says he’s just excited about a new concept and he’s in genius game inventor mode, but it’s been six years.A lot’s changed since I saw him manic.I think he knows himself better now.”

“When I met him he told me he had gone a year on the same cocktail with no major episodes.Do you believe him?”

“Yeah.Ian’s not much of a liar.He’s more of an omission kinda guy when he has something he wants to hide.”Ian was remarkably good at keeping things to himself when he wanted to.

Dr. Mohammed crossed his legs and scribbled in his notebook while he said, “Thus, he wants you to know he wants to get back together.”

“Yeah.He definitely does.”Mickey agreed.Ian was making no secret there.

“Do you?”Dr. Mohammed asked, still focused on his notebook.

“Dunno.”Mickey admitted.It was getting easier being with Ian.It felt familiar.He was still angry, but even he could admit the strength of that anger was fading.At the same time, he was afraid.Relationships required intimacy.He had never been good at it before, but now? Fuck right off with that shit.He didn’t have it in him.

But Ian was very good at getting his way.Sometimes it was in your face stubborn, my way or the highway insistence.Most of the time it was a subtle series of incremental little pushes that eventually got Ian what he wanted.

Mickey did not want to be coerced into intimacy he couldn’t deal with yet.

Dr. Mohammed smiled.“That is a different answer from last session’s hell no.”

Mickey wanted to disagree but,“What can I say?He’s like scabies.He digs under your skin and no matter what you do you can’t get rid of him.”

“Not the most flattering analogy.”Dr. Mohammed said, smile growing wider.

Mickey shrugged.

“Do you want him out of your life?”

“Like I’m ever gonna make that happen.”Mickey complained.“He’s my sister’s and my son’s best friend. My ex-wife works for him.They did just fine for almost six years without me so if I make waves I’m gonna be the one on the outs.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah.”Mickey replied, absolutely certain were he stood in the pecking order.“He’s the glue holding our fucked up little family together.Can’t live with him.Can’t live without him.”

“That’s interesting.”Dr. Mohammed made another note.“Why do you think he’s the glue?”

“My family is a fucking nightmare.Svetlana’s dad sold her as a sex slave when she was a kid.I pimped her out and the crazy bitch somehow forgave me...or she’s waiting to murder me in my sleep, who knows.Fact is, Ian is literally the only one of us who knows how to be in a family.” 

“From what you’ve told me his family is also extremely dysfunctional.”

“Yeah, but they stuck together.”Mickey knew he was not the best judge of what normal was, but he knew the Gallaghers loved each other which was a major step up from his own family.Inside the Gallaghers Ian had always been the guy in the background quietly getting things done.He was the rock the rest of them leaned on until his bipolar emerged.“He knows how to do family.” 

“Which brings us back to the question of what kind of relationship you want to have with him.”

“You know, I’ve always wondered why you never told me to just forget about him.It was hopeless.You knew it. I knew it.I kinda figured now you’d tell me to stay away from him.Start a new life. He’s no good for you, blah, blah, blah.”

“As you have pointed out, your lives are intertwined.Pushing him to the periphery of your life where you are connected only through your son and sister is possible but not what you want.Rather than fight a losing battle I’d rather help you make your relationship as healthy as possible for both of you.”

“You believe that?”Mickey asked.He had always assumed Dr. Mohammed was just humoring him about Ian.

“You have never wavered.”

“Maybe I’m just a batshit crazy stalker.”Mickey challenged.There was a line out there somewhere between love and obsession.Mickey didn’t know where it was, but to still love someone after a terrible breakup and six years of hell seemed to be on the wrong side of that line.

“Or you met the love of your life young and under terrible circumstances. You did the best you could.More to the point, both of you are persistent enough to have reunited.I saw he came with you again this week.” 

Ian was sitting in the waiting room looking beautiful and perfect, red hair neatly styled, beard just long enough to hide the ugly bruise Mickey had left on his chin.He was wearing a hunter green sweater, slim black trousers and black loafers.He looked like a movie star.

In contrast, the only grooming Mickey had bothered with was brushing his teeth.He was wearing the same sweatpants he’d slept in and a Henley he borrowed from Ian that was too big and had to have the sleeves rolled up to keep his hands free.“I’m a fucking wreck.He’s got his shit together.”

“I’ve seen much worse.”Dr. Mohammed replied.

Mickey knew he was not the worst the doctor had ever seen. The man dealt with murders and psychopaths on the regular when he worked in the prisons.

Before prison Mickey had always known he would end up there.It was all he was destined for, fucked for life.Back then he had accepted it, well aware of his own worthlessness. 

Ian had given him a spark of hope, a glimpse of something different. 

Prison happened as he had always known it would, but the spark of hope survived.It was with him still.Ian still saw something in him, too.Dr. Mohammed was paid to see something in him so let the man earn it.“So how you gonna rebuild this old jalopy, huh?”

Dr. Mohammed smiled a gentle rebuke.“You do the rebuilding, Mickey.I’m here to support and guide you.”

“No magic bullets?” Mickey asked though he knew there was no such thing.

“Rebuilding takes time and effort.” Dr. Mohammed confirmed.Then he changed the subject.“How are you sleeping?”

“A lot better.”The new medications had really helped.

“Good.That’s good.Any more fight or flight moments?”

Mickey always found it interesting Dr. Mohammed did not call them panic attacks.“Just one and it wasn’t too bad.”

“What was the cause?”

Mickey inhaled.All roads led to one place.“Mandy knows about...it.”

“Of course she does.She is you next of kin.In that capacity the hospital had to use her as your surrogate decision maker when you were incapacitated.”Dr. Mohammed confirmed and Mickey felt stupid for not thinking of this before Mandy told him.He frowned and Dr. Mohammed continued, asking, “How do you feel about her knowing?”

“Hate it.”

“Can you elaborate?”

Mickey rolled his eyes.“I fucking hate that she knows.”

“Because you fear judgement?”

Mickey thought about that.“After what she’s been through?Nah.”

“If she knows, there is a possibility Ian does as well?”

“She says she didn’t tell him.”Mickey replied.He found sometimes Ian and Mandy would go behind his back and then tell him later whatever they had done was for his own good.He didn’t think she told, but if she did that was how she would justify it.

“He knew about her rape and rather than judge her, he helped her.Is that not what you just told me?”

“Yeah, but...”Mickey trailed off.There were a lot of things he still had not worked out about what had happened to his sister.

“But what?”

“But that’s different.”He finally said, exactly why it was different he could not articulate.

“Why?”Dr. Mohammed asked immediately.

“That shit happens to chicks.”Mickey spit out. 

“But not men.”

Mickey nodded minutely.His stomach clenched and his leg started to bounce.

“There were eight of them including your father, were there not?”

Mickey nodded, trying to block out the images flooding into his mind’s eye.

“So, a real man would have been able to fight off eight men, is that what you think?”

“Or die trying.”Mickey muttered.Why hadn’t he died?He should have died.

“You very nearly did.I do not think your manhood can be questioned if those are the criteria you are using, Mickey.”

“Whatever.”Mickey ground out.He could hear his heart pulsing in his ears.He knew what was coming.“What kinda man has panic attacks like a fucking little girl?”

“It has been my experience that little girls are often made of very strong stuff.As a symptom of post traumatic stress extreme fight or flight reactions do not make you weak.They simply inform you there are things you need to work through.”

“So we’re back to I have to talk about it.”Mickey said as calmly as he could.He was trying to control his breathing, trying to get his knee to stop bouncing.His hip could not afford another flip out.

“Indeed we are.”Dr. Mohammed agreed.

“Fuck.”It wasn’t working.He could not control the flood.He reached out for Dr. Mohammed as though somehow he could make it stop.“Doc?”


	14. 14. Flight, not Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So we get into some of the gorier details of what happened to Mickey - you have been warned.

“You okay, Mickey?”Ian was on his feet the moment Mickey crashed back out into the waiting room. 

Mickey shrugged Ian’s hand off his arm, the touch making his skin crawl.He hobbled fast toward the door.He needed to get the fuck out of here.“Can we just go?”

“Yeah.Sure.”Ian agreed and followed him like a lost puppy.

They made it to the elevator in silence.Mickey was an agitated mess.It was sort of like a panic attack, but rather than crushing inward it felt more like it was going to explode outward.He was going to burst.He could feel a horribly familiar pounding pain under his ribs on his left side and it was as if he was going to burst and his guts were going to leak out everywhere and he would not be able to contain it.God.

As the elevator dinged to announce it’s arrival Mickey turned around and charged back into Dr. Mohammed’s waiting room and through the door back into the doctor’s office.Ian was right behind him asking him what was wrong. 

Glaring down at Dr. Mohammed who was still sitting on the couch scribbling Mickey almost shouted, “I was gang raped in prison.There I fucking said it.Happy now?”

Mickey froze.He thought if he said it the terrible tension pulsing through him would ease, but it only grew worse.He rubbed at his side.

“Please, Mickey, sit.”Dr. Mohammed said.

“Oh my God.”Ian breathed behind him.

Mickey barely heard either of them.He was vibrating so hard he thought he might fall over.He had to move.He started pacing, crutches stabbing at the floor as he hobbled from the windows to the wall and back again. 

He had not wanted to say it.Did not want to talk about it.Not now, not with Ian, not ever.Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.What had he done?

“Mr. Gallagher, please take a seat.”

Mickey heard the words.He could not look.He was sure if he looked at Ian he would pop.

Suddenly Dr. Mohammed was at his side walking back and forth with him, speaking gently.“Mickey, breathe.Slowly.Breathe.In through your nose, out through your mouth.There you go.In and out.Good.Very good.”

The tension eased a little as Mickey breathed as instructed.The pain in his side eased a little too.His pacing slowed.In and out.In and out.He had said it.The secret was out.Ian knew.

His gaze skittered over to Ian lingering just long enough to register the redhead was lost in his own head.

“Can you sit?”Dr. Mohammed asked.

Mickey snapped out of his daze.“I...don’t you have another session?”

Dr. Mohammed looked at Mickey.His eyes said nothing in the world was more important than this moment.“Never you mind.Please, sit.”

Mickey let himself be guided to his chair.Ian was still sitting on the couch, his expression unreadable and his eyes glazed over. Mickey’s pulse was pounding in his ears and his side ached, but this expression on Ian’s face made it even worse.Jesus, how could he explain?Mickey tried to find words.“I...this...”

“I love you.”Ian said looking up at him.His green eyes alive with an expression Mickey had never seen before and could not interpret.“It’s okay.”

The look on Ian’s face freaked him out.He leapt back up from the chair and shouted what he was thinking.“It’s not fucking okay!Nothing is okay!Fuck you!”

“Mickey, you need to sit.You’re going to hurt yourself.Please sit.” Dr. Mohammed was by his side again, hands on him which Mickey violently shrugged off.

Ian rose to help, but Dr. Mohammed said, “Mr. Gallagher, please, keep your seat.”

Ian sat back down.“Terry did this, right?” Under his breath he muttered, “He’s a fucking dead man.”

“Mr. Gallagher, that is not helpful.”Dr. Mohammed chided before returning his attention to Mickey.“Sit, sit.Please.”

Mickey sat.His skin was pricking with pins and needles and he could not really catch his breath but he sat and listened to Dr. Mohammed’s soothing voice letting it help regulate down his breathing and slow the thoughts spinning through his mind.

The moment dragged out, elongating like taffy, thinner and thinner the further it pulled until it snapped and Mickey said, “You tell him.”

Ian looked up at him.Mickey could see it in his peripheral vision.He could not meet those searching green eyes.He stared at the floor.

To his right Dr. Mohammed asked, “What do you wish me to say?”

Mickey dragged a hand down his face.He had opened the wound, now it was time to rip out his guts and display them.“Fuck, just tell him.Whatever you know about...it, just tell him.” 

Tell me, Mickey thought.He remembered very little from the attack and hospitalization.It lived in his panic attacks, terrifying unresolved images, feelings and smells.He had not wanted to ever know the specifics, but it was too late now.The cat was out of the bag.

“Very well.”Dr. Mohammed pulled up a chair next to Mickey and held out a hand.Mickey stared at it and then glared at Dr. Mohammed.The doctor took his hand back into his lap and began. “What I know from your medical records is as follows: two years ago, Mickey was attacked in a classroom by members of a white supremacist gang.A witness said eight men lead by Taras Boryslav Milkovich aka Terry Milkovich perpetrated the attack.

The assault was brutal.You were beaten with an iron bar breaking an ankle and hip. There was a concussion and multiple contusions and lacerations to the face and body.Most urgently, there was a perforation to the descending colon requiring multiple surgeries and the eventual resection of six inches of bowel.An ileostomy was placed to give the bowel time to heal.In spite of the surgeons’ efforts peritonitis and the sepsis set in.Dialysis was required for a time to treat acute kidney injury.The ICU stay was 13 days followed by another two weeks in hospital before being returned to our care in the medical ward where he spent the remainder of his prison time.There were three additional trips to the hospital for further work.”

When the doctor stopped speaking, the silence in the room was deafening.Mickey rubbed at the ache in his left side under his ribcage. 

“You are why clinicians believe in miracles.”Dr. Mohammed finished quietly.

Mickey had been staring straight ahead.He heard the words.They flowed over him and past him.He had lived through this.He was the person being discussed in such a clinically detached fashion.Perhaps Dr. Mohammed spoke that way to reduce the impact or make it seem less horrible than it was, Mickey didn’t know. 

It seemed surreal, like a nightmare he could not quite remember or shake off.

He shot a glance at Ian.The redhead was white as a sheet with tears running down his cheeks.He looked like he was going to throw up. 

Mickey did, all over the Persian carpet in front of him.Then he fled.

***

Mickey made it out of the building and about half a block before the pain in his hip overcame the rush of adrenaline.He sank down on the sidewalk, back against a building.

He probably looked like a homeless schizophrenic carrying on the way he did as fear, grief and rage churned inside him.He had no idea how long the outburst lasted but when he finally started to calm down, he noticed Ian was sitting quietly a few feet away holding his crutches.There was a black sedan parked nearby.

Mickey rubbed at his eyes and sniffled.He wiped the snot off his upper lip and chin with his sleeve and glanced over at Ian again.The redhead met his gaze, eyes clear, body language calm like he was trying to earn the trust of a cornered animal.

Mickey looked away.

Holy fuck his hip hurt.He wasn’t going to be able to get up.He felt like crying again, the pain was that intense, but he choked it down. 

There was movement to his left and a water bottle appeared in front of his face.He took it.A freckled hand holding two white tablets followed.“Take these.”

Mickey took them and swallowed them down with half the bottle of water.His gaze fell to the filthy pavement he was sitting on.

He did not know what to say. 

Ian sat next to him, close enough Mickey could feel the heat of his arm, but not touching.Waiting.

Mickey continued to sit there while he polished off the rest of the water and tossed the bottle at a nearby trash bin.He made the shot.It was the best thing to happen to him all day.

He chuckled darkly.Fuck his fucking life.

Mickey glanced up, not ready to really face Ian and his likely onslaught of questions.Through the buildings he could see storm clouds.It was going to rain soon and to prove it a few fat drops of water began to land on and around him.Without looking at Ian he said, “You’re gonna have to help me up, man.”

“I know.”Ian replied, not moving from his seat next to Mickey.

“Now would be good.”Mickey prompted.He did not want to add soaked to his list of problems today.

Ian looked over at him as the sky stopped spitting and rain began to fall in earnest.“And go where, Mickey?”

“Just get me up first.” Mickey said, “Then we’ll decide between Gonzo’s office and the ER, okay?”

Ian made a face as he stood up.“That bad?”

“Yeah.”Mickey muttered.There was yet another surgery in his future now.He was sure of it. 

Ian leaned down and put his hands under Mickey’s arm pits hauling him to his feet.Mickey’s skin crawled at the touch, but there wasn’t a choice.He couldn’t get up on his own.Once upright, it took a moment to stabilize on his ‘good’ leg.There was something wrong with his knee, worse than it had been.It ached a lot and felt wobbly as hell, bad enough he was afraid to try to walk on it.“Fuck!”

“Mickey?”Ian asked, letting go and watching as Mickey tried to keep his balance. 

Mickey reached out and grabbed onto Ian’s arm for stability.“Knee’s fucked.”

“This knee?”Ian asked, gesturing toward his left knee.

“Yeah.Tore the MCL a few years back.They said it would heal on it’s own, usually does, but not with my shitty luck.”

“Jesus.” Ian breathed out.“I’m gonna have to carry you then.”

“And the hits just keep on coming.”Mickey muttered.Could this day get worse?Being hit by a bus would be a blessing right now.

Ian did not have anything to say to that.Instead he gestured to the driver who came and gathered the crutches.Ian lifted Mickey bridal style and carried him to the sedan.“We’re going to the ER at Langone.You just rest.I’ll let Mo and Gonzo know, okay?”

“I’m sorry.”Mickey sniffled.Damn it, he was crying again. Milkovich men did not cry.He wiped angrily at his face.

As Ian got him settled in the car and climbed in next to him he said, “I know it doesn’t seem like it, but it’s going to be okay.”

Mickey snorted.“Still an optimist.”

“Just experience speaking.”Ian retorted, gently.

“Whatever, fire crotch.”Mickey did not want to talk anymore.He closed his eyes and tried to make his mind go blank.

***

Mickey’s energy was sapped by the time they got to the hospital.He drifted in and out of sleep while Ian took care of everything.He went to radiology in a daze.He did not remember coming back.He must have drifted off again because the next thing he heard was Dr. Gonzalez’s booming voice saying, “Mikhailo Aleksandr Milkovich, what have you done to my hip?”

He wiped the sleep from his eyes and struggled to get more upright on the ER gurney he had slumped down on.“Fucked it up, Doc.”

Dr. Gonzales nodded his agreement.“Your MRI is not pretty and what’s this I hear about a knee giving out?”

Ian must have told him.Mickey didn’t care.“Old MCL tear acting up.”

“I see.” Dr. Gonzalez nodded.“May I?”

“Yeah, sure.”Mickey pulled the blanket back exposing his left leg.

Dr. Gonzalez manipulated his knee back and forth, up and down, side to side. “This is definitely not stable.How long ago did this happen?”

“Four years, maybe five?”Mickey did not really remember exactly.In the litany of medical issues he had faced in prison, this one was small potatoes.

“And it’s always been like this?”

“It’s way worse.” Mickey admitted.He knew it had not healed like the doctor said it would.Since the injury it had been less stable than his right knee.What he had not noticed was, “I didn’t know how right side dominant I’d become until I couldn’t use it.”

“Well hell, Mickey.I’m going to go ahead and admit you tonight.As I’m sure you already figured out, I’m going to have to go back in and do some repair work on that hip.I’m putting you on the schedule for tomorrow if you’re agreeable.”

“Yeah.”Mickey agreed.He had known this would happen.

Dr. Gonzalez stared down at him with probing eyes.“My larger concern is what do I have to do to keep you from tearing it up again?”

“Won’t happen again.”Mickey replied.He would chain himself to the bed if he had to.

“So your PTSD magically went away?”

Mickey glared in response.

“Did you see Mo?”

“Yeah.”

Dr. Gonzalez nodded and stood up.It was the only thing that appeared to make him happy so far.“I’ll talk to him about what we can do to get you through the next eight weeks, okay?”

“Yeah.”

“For now we’re going to put a brace on that knee, but you’re looking at another surgery to repair it once we get the hip fixed.”

Mickey had known that was coming also, but it was terrible to hear just the same.

He must have made a face or something because Dr. Gonzalez was quick to reassure him. “We can worry about that later.For now, we just need to get that hip taken care of.”

***

Ian sat in the surgical waiting room with an overwhelming sense of deja vous.Mandy was beside him on her laptop.She occasionally got up to make phone calls.She seemed stressed.

In contrast, Ian had nothing to do. 

Svetlana was holding down the fort for him at work for the next week.He was torn about how much time he was taking off to focus on Mickey and also feeling guilty about how much time he was still spending working from home. 

At Dr. Gonzalez’s request he had interviews lined up for tomorrow morning for a home health aide.Because of the added complication of the brace on his left knee, Mickey was going to need extra help.Ian just hoped he could find someone Mickey would tolerate.

Since the incident at Dr. Mohammed’s they hadn’t talked much. 

Ian had assumed Mickey had avoided him for six months because he was still angry.The break up had been bad.Everything leading up to it had been bad.Bipolar was bad.Prison for five and a half years had been far worse than Ian had imagined.Mandy had not told him, her best friend, how bad it had been.

The anger he felt towards her was misplaced and irrational.He knew it.He tried to hold it inside since he knew Mandy had been caught in a catch 22 where her best friend was her brother’s ex.What choice did she have but keep secrets?

He sighed. 

When he finally had seen Mickey four weeks ago (had it really been so recently?) Ian had known at a glance all was not right with him. 

Mickey was still Mickey, but diminished somehow.It wasn’t just that he was skinny and pale and limping.It was as if the shadowy remains of the FUCK U-UP tattoos were a metaphor. 

Ian had his own experiences with remnants.Once he finally started to get well he saw how much he had lost.His disorder had dug in deep, scooping out his hopes and dreams and place in the world.He lost his trust in himself.He lost the trust of his family.He lost the love of his life.All he had left was his disorder; the one thing he did not want.

Looking back, he was surprised he had been able to rebuild as fast as he had. At the time it had felt like forever.He went home.He started seeing the psychiatrist at the clinic and taking his meds which sucked at first but got better with time.He stopped doing drugs and drinking.He finished his GED, started at community college and reunited with Mandy.He got and lost a number of jobs.He had ups and downs.It was hard.

Ian had known Mickey long enough to know he was tough.He was resilient and he lived almost entirely in the moment.The past was the past.Mickey thought he had no future so he didn’t worry about it much.He took what he could when he could and found happiness, such as it was, in the small breaths between catastrophes.He was the strongest, most unbreakable person Ian knew.

The Mickey Ian met at the birthday party had been broken.

Now he knew why.Terry had finally discovered something his son could not bounce back from.God, it all made sense now.

No wonder Mickey had PTSD and panic attacks.

Ian finally understood why Mickey looked at him the way he did with a mix of desire and revulsion.This was why Mickey shied away from being touched. 

If ever Ian had wanted to murder someone, it was now.

Mandy’s voice cut into his thoughts.“You’re far away.What are you thinking about?”

Ian drew back from his anger though it was difficult.He was trying so hard to direct his rage where it belonged, but he was angry at her too, irrational as it was.“Mickey.”

“Yeah.Kinda figured that.Not like you think of much else.”It was a half hearted tease. 

The anger bubbled uncomfortably in his stomach.He belched out a question he already knew the answer to.“Were you ever going to tell me? The...rape.Why didn’t you tell me?”

Mandy’s eyes opened in surprise and then she exhaled, deep and purifying. “Finally.Jesus, sitting on that secret sucked.” 

Ian watched some of the tension seep from her.It felt like he had drawn it from her as it added to the tension already coiled in his stomach.

“You know why I didn’t tell you, Ian.Wasn’t my secret to tell, but I’m glad he finally did though.”

“He had Dr. Mo tell me.”Mickey never could have gotten those words past his teeth.

She nodded and closed her laptop.“Then he freaked all the way out and we ended up back here, is that it?”

“In a nutshell, yeah.”

They were quiet for a while, each lost in their own thoughts.Ian knew it would be a long, hard road but he was willing to walk it.That much he knew.Mickey was worth everything to him.He would do whatever it took, provide whatever was needed and, if it came to it, walk away if that was what Mickey wanted.He felt like crying again.He did not want to walk away, not now, not ever.

“So how many ways have you thought up to murder Terry so far?”Mandy cut into his thoughts again.

“About a thousand at least.”Ian answered.Since Dr. Mohammed told him what happened, he had imagined all manner of terrible death upon Terry fucking Milkovich.That man could not die soon enough or horribly enough.The only thing holding Ian back was the sure and certain knowledge vengeance against Terry belonged to Mickey and Mickey alone.He would gladly aide and abet though.

He looked over at Mandy.Actually, she had murder rights, too.

The changes Mandy had made in her life had been facilitated by the knowledge her father would be locked up a long time.She would not have had the courage to hope for a better life otherwise.Ian realized he had never asked what Terry had been locked up for or for how long.“How long is he in for?”

“Twenty to life.”Mandy responded. 

“He’s been in for about six years?”Ian asked, feeling his heart sink.Terry had an uncanny knack for sentence reduction. “So in Terry years he’ll be out sometime in the next month or two.Fuck.”

“Not funny.”Mandy frowned.

“Seriously though, he’ll be out in a couple years.He never stays in very long.”

Mandy sighed.Her shoulders slumped, the defeat of years of abuse weighing heavily on her.“He collects favors like kids collect toys.”

Of course he did.Two generations ago the Milkovich family had escaped Soviet Ukraine and immediately carved out a place in the criminal underbelly of Chicago.That was a lot of time, a lot of favors and a lot of secrets to cash in on.

“Mickey never stood a chance did he?”

“Dad had big plans for Mickey.” 

The oldest of the Milkovich siblings, Jamie, Joey and Colin, were idiots.Iggy was a irredeemable pot head.Terry thought of his daughter alternately as a princess and as property.That left Mickey as his only real hope for the future.Why Mickey’s sexual orientation made such a difference, Ian would never understand. 

Mandy leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder.“Mickey’s a survivor, Ian.He’ll get through this.You’ll see.”

“This is different from a beat down.”Ian countered.Mickey could take a beating.He had taken many of them.This was a violation, a humiliation so deep the wounds left behind were gaping, ugly holes.

“You think I don’t know that?”Mandy snapped, jerking away from him.Their eyes met and she sighed, looking away.“Sorry.I know you know.He should probably know, too.”

There were things he would one day share with Mickey, but for the moment he would keep his silence.Mickey would take some of it personally, like he had failed somehow, when it was the disorder and a stubborn refusal to come to terms with it that had caused Ian’s problems.“Yeah, but he’s felt responsible for me since I got sick.I don’t want to add to that.He’s suffering enough.”

Mandy took his words as judgement.“I told him so he would know he wasn’t alone, not to make him suffer.”

“I’m not saying you shouldn’t have told him or that I won’t ever tell him.He saw me in the clubs so I’m pretty sure on some level he already knows anyway.I just don’t think now is the time to talk about it.”

“I guess so, but if you’re expecting him to come clean you should, too.” 

“I will.” Ian promised.“When it’s not another burden for him to carry, I will.”

Their conversation was thankfully cut short when the same nurse they had met last time they were here came into the waiting room and loudly asked, “Milkovich?”

“That’s us.”Mandy said grabbing for her bag to put her laptop in it.Ian stood and observed the nurse.She looked calm this time, not like she was trying to avert disaster.

The nurse smiled at him with recognition.“Come on back.Gonzo says he’d prefer to talk to you at bedside this time.”

“Good idea.”Mandy muttered as they both followed her.The corridor seemed shorter this time and scarier somehow since it was silent.

They entered the PACU to find it functioning with quiet efficacy.When the nurse led them to Mickey’s bay, they found him sitting up a little eating ice chips.

“Hey.”He slurred when he saw them.

Ian walked straight up to the side of the bed and leaned over, kissing Mickey’s forehead without thinking.“Hey, Mickey.”

Mickey pushed on his chest, but did not say anything or look particularly upset about the kiss.

Ian took a step back and asked, “How are you feeling?”

“High as fuck.”Mickey said with a smile.“Hi, sis.”

“Hey, shit stain.”Mandy smiled back at him.

The same female anesthesiologist from last time was standing at the end of the bed watching the scene.“He’s doing much better this time.”

Thank you Captain Obvious, Ian thought as Mickey reached out a hand to him.Ian took it and held it. 

Dr. Gonzalez rounded a corner and smiled at them.As he approached he started explaining.“Ah, glad you both are here.So, I had to remove some damaged tissue, but I’m pleased with the results.He’s going to stay with us for the next two days to make sure we get some good healing in.I’ll let him go home Sunday morning.Rehabbing this is going to be extremely important.We’re also going to step up his PT to daily visits.Did you find a home health aide?”

“I’m interviewing in the morning.” Ian nodded. 

“Good, good.Dr. Mo and I have talked over Mickey’s care at length.”Dr. Gonzalez turned to look at Mickey.“You’re going to be on Ativan every eight hours while in the hospital.We’re going to send you home on a lower dose with a sublingual rescue version of the medication as well if you feel like your anxiety is spiking.The hope is, we can control your anxiety enough to keep you from having panic attacks while healing and ween you down as the Zoloft kicks in and you go through therapy and the joint gets stronger.Okay?”

“That shit’s addictive.”Mickey responded.Ian remembered a time when a prescription for Ativan would have been like pure gold to the brunette.Now he was protesting for reasons that had never mattered to him before.

“Yes, it is.” Dr. Gonzalez agreed. “Which is why it will be very carefully regulated by Dr. Mo and weened down as fast as possible.The risk of not doing this is permanent damage to the hip that could impair your mobility for the rest of your life.”

“Okay then.”Mickey agreed as if he had never protested in the first place.

Mandy had a few more questions for Dr. Gonzalez.Ian probably should have been listening, but he was focused instead on how well Mickey’s hand fit into his own.It felt good Mickey had reached out to him even if he had rejected the kiss.

The PACU staff let them stay with Mickey until he was transferred to his room.In keeping with the deja vous of the day, Bailey was once again Mickey’s nurse.

It took a minute to get settled but once they were Mandy asked, “Where are you doing the interviews, Ian?”

“My house?”It came out as a question because of the way Mandy was looking at him.Where else would he do them?

“I guess you forgot about the Halloween party you’re hosting tomorrow night?” 

“Shit.”Ian had indeed totally forgotten. Given what he now knew, he was in no mood for a party.

“You did.”Mandy rolled her eyes.

“Sorry.There’s been so much going on.”He had invited a hoard of people over to a Halloween themed housewarming party.He wondered if it was too late to cancel it.

“Do you want to cancel it?”Mandy asked, tone flat. 

Ian’s heart sank.He couldn’t cancel it.Mandy had worked too hard on it.It was her final project.Everyone in her class was required to plan a large scale event for a minimum 200 people.Mandy was the only one actually executing her plan.It was a big deal for her.

Besides, there were probably people at his house right now decorating. 

This morning when he had thought she was working on homework, she had been working on his party.How had he forgotten?

Mickey entered the conversation saying, “Guess I’ll hang out here with my Jello and ice chips living it up with the nurses.”

Okay.The party was definitely moving ahead, Ian decided.He would just have to split his time. 

He could move the interviews from the first floor to his home office on the third.They would be out of the way of the decorating and prep that way.The floor would be closed the night of the party anyway.Problem solved.

The next issue was how to be in two places at the same time.Ian did not want to leave Mickey alone.He could put in an appearance at the party and then come back to the hospital for a while before returning to the party to close out the night.Then he could come back to the hospital and stay with Mickey.It would be a lot of travel but it could work.“I can come by...”

“Nah, you enjoy your party.”Mickey was quick to cut him off.He patted Ian’s hand, eyes still closed.“I’ll go to the next one.”

Ian smiled.He would go to the party for a while and then come to the hospital afterwards.“I’m taking that as a promise.”

“Whatever, fire crotch.”Mickey muttered clearly on his way to sleep.


	15. 15. Halloween in Hospital

Mandy looked around the room and felt proud of herself.

Ian’s house had been transformed into a haunted mansion in just under 24 hours.It looked genuinely creepy both outside and inside. 

The bar on the first floor and the one on the roof were fully stocked and manned by bartenders (slash actors) who looked like zombies.The waiters looked the same, lurching around with trays of hors d’oeuvres and drinks designed to look disgusting and taste amazing.

The DJ was awesome. 

Ian had invited everyone at Claymore as well as a bunch of friends, acquaintances and business partners. Enough of those people were celebrities to lure in photographers.

The security was tight.Party goers had access to the first and sixth floors and the courtyard and roof.The rest of the house was locked down behind fire doors.

Costumes were required and though a few people had been pretty lame with their choices, most people had gone all out. 

Ian was in the center of it all, mingling with his guests.He was dressed as Jack Skellington.The costume had been custom designed and she had brought in a makeup artist to do his face and white anime style wig.She was dressed as Sally, also with an anime twist.They looked amazing together and had their picture taken many times. 

Mandy felt fantastic.She was so acing this final.

She wished Mickey was there to enjoy it too, but he was at the hospital still, not due for discharge until tomorrow.She glanced at her watch.Ian had promised to stay until midnight and then he was heading to the hospital to spend the night with Mickey.

Though the night had started pretty rocky, he finally looked like he was having a great time.She knew he was worried about Mickey, but Mickey had already (repeatedly) told him to just enjoy his party and not to come to the hospital tonight.

The party was going well, better than she expected and once he cut loose Ian was the life of it.He was out on the floor dancing with the devil otherwise known as Sven Stevensen, his chief accountant.He had a huge smile plastered on his face. 

Mandy directed the official event photographer toward Ian for a few shots.The press loved getting photos of him, the latest poster boy for the American dream.It helped he was attractive, engaging and well spoken.Being single, gay and bipolar running a billion dollar upstart company just added to the interest.

If Mandy was lucky this party would end up on the celebrity gossip news feeds.She knew Ian would give her credit assuming he stayed long enough to be asked who planned his party. 

“Great party.”Svetlana complimented, leaning in close to be heard over the music.She was dressed as a Russian inspired ice queen.The irony of the costume was not lost on Mandy nor would it be on any of the Claymore staff.Mandy smiled.Svetlana was an acquired taste, kind of like black licorice or Miracle Whip, it took time and small doses but eventually most people learned to like her.

“Yeah.” Mandy agreed surveying the room and catching the eye of her lead bartender who held up an almost empty bottle of Don Julio tequila.Mandy nodded and messaged her procurer to bring more bottles up from the cellar.Returning her attention to Svetlana she asked, “Did you have trouble getting in?”

“No.Security is good.Many uninvited people outside trying to get in.They are stopped.”Svetlana was also looking around the room.Not finding what she was looking for, she asked, “Orange boy is having good time, yes?”

“Look for yourself.”Mandy pointed to him.He was now dancing with a handful of people Mandy recognized as members of his staff from last year’s holiday party.

“Idiot ex-husband is still in hospital?”Svetlana asked as the procurer delivered two more bottles of tequila to the bar and the gestured he was going upstairs to check on the rooftop bar.

Mandy nodded to him and answered Svetlana.“Yep.Comes home tomorrow.”

“They are good?”

“Better, but I think it’s the Ativan more than anything.”Mandy replied.Mickey had been much more easy going since his second surgery.He had let Ian hold his hand.He initiated the hand holding a couple times.The second time Ian went to kiss his forehead, Mickey had not flinched.It didn’t seem like much, but given the circumstances it was huge. 

“Better is good.”

In spite of the often turbulent history between the three of them, Svetlana had decided it was better for everyone if Mickey and Ian got back together.She was almost single handedly making their reunion possible by picking up Ian’s slack at the office.It had to be taking a toll

on her.Mandy asked, “You doing okay with all the extra work?”

“Orange boy just thinks he runs company.”She chuckled and then grew serious.“He does what he must.I understand.Enough games in development.He works again soon.It is okay for now.”

Ian bounced up to them and smacked a kiss onto Svetlana’s cheek.“Hey work wife, you look great!”

“Beat it, work husband.I have night off.”Svetlana snarled, but she was smiling.She pulled a compact from her faux ermine hand warmer and checked her face for makeup damage.She looked flawless.

Ian slung an arm over Mandy’s shoulder while simultaneously leaning in conspiratorially close to Svetlana.“On the prowl, huh?Already scoped out a prospect for you.In the courtyard there’s a straight, newly divorced, very rich corporate lawyer dressed as a Centurion.” 

Svetlana’s smile went mercenary and Ian slapped her ass as she brushed past him.Behind her he called out, “Go get ‘em, tiger!”

She flipped him the bird and headed off toward the courtyard.

Then his attention turned fully to Mandy.“You’ve out done yourself, Mands.This is awesome!”

“Glad you’re enjoying yourself.”Mandy replied, glowing in his praise.A voice squeezed over her headset.She turned to Ian, “Apparently, we’re now drawing celebrities.You okay if Letitia Wright and five friends come in?”

“Sure, she’s cool.I’m gonna head out soon, but if anyone else interesting shows up, use your judgement, okay?I trust you.”

So he was going to leave after all.Mandy let the jealousy swell and then pop in her chest.She hoped someday she found someone who loved her like Ian loved Mickey.“You just make sure you drop my name every chance you get.”

Ian smiled and agreed loudly, “Best party planner ever!”

Then he was lost in the crowd and she got back to work.

***

“What are you doing here, man?”Mickey asked as an Ian shaped Jack Skellington slipped into his room. 

Ian posed momentarily to give Mickey the full effect of his costume before he pulled the white wig off his head and rubbed a hand through his red hair.“Told you I’d come.”

“Yeah, but I figured you’d be having too good a time to come all the way here to watch me sleep.”Mickey countered.Granted he was bored watching Netflix on his iPad, but he really had hoped Ian would just enjoy his party. 

It had only been a couple days since the big reveal and he had not really had time to process it.He had been too worried about his hip and a second surgery.Also, he did not want to think about it.He sure as fuck didn’t want to talk about it.

However, it gnawed at him that Ian had not mentioned it, either too repulsed or too weirded out to know what to say.Mickey knew he should take it as a good sign Ian was even here, but every time he saw the redhead it it also felt like the harbinger of doom. 

If Ian hung in there, eventually they would have to talk about it.For real.Just the two of them, no Dr. Mohammed for clinical detachment and distance.

God fucking bless the Ativan, because just days ago this thought alone would have been enough to set off a panic attack. Now it just drifted out there in the mire of his thoughts, present but not encompassing.

He was still thinking about the benefits of Ativan when Ian said, “I like watching you sleep.”

The ginger menace probably did too.Mickey knew he liked watching Ian sleep sometimes.He loved the way Ian’s pale lashes dusted over lightly freckled cheeks and the way Ian’s lips would puff with each breath sometimes when he slept on his belly. 

Mickey’s stomach clenched.It was not enough to set him off, but it did have him fishing for an excuse to be alone.He could not deal with Ian yet.“It’s important to Mandy.Get your ass back over there, Gallagher.”

“I don’t need to go back, Mick.The party is all over social media and I’ve plugged the hell out of her as my event planner.Mission accomplished.”Ian replied with a smile as he headed for the bathroom.“I’m gonna wash this off and get changed, okay?”

“I’ll be ho...” Mickey choked on the word home, before he reined whatever that was back in and finished the sentence, “back at your place in less than 24 hours.You can finish out your night, man.Go home.” 

Ian came back out of the bathroom, face and neck still painted.His jacket and collar were off and his shirt partially unbuttoned revealing a pale, well defined chest with a light dusting of red hair.He had not taken out the black contact lenses yet.“Parties run way later than my meds let me stay awake and then all the extra noise makes sleeping difficult and my dreams weird.I’ll tell you a secret.Every time I host a party I end up leaving around midnight and sleeping at a hotel.I’m like fucking Cinderella.”

Nothing about Ian looked like Cinderella right now.Rather the contrast of costume against reality was jarring, like something out of a horror movie.Mickey turned his eyes away from the sight and replied.“So go to a hotel. You know you can’t sleep for shit in a hospital.”

No one slept in a hospital.Too many machines beeping and people coming in and out.This was why Ian and Mandy had split their self imposed shifts at the hospital the way they had.Ian was on days for precisely this reason.

Ian stared at him for a long moment like he was trying to figure out a puzzle.Finally, the chin came up and he announced, “I’m staying.” 

Mickey sighed.He had a love/hate relationship with that chin.Knowing there was no point in argument, Mickey said, “Fine, do whatever you fucking want.You always do anyway.”

“That’s not fair, Mickey.”Ian sighed, deflating a little.The chin dropped. 

Mickey did not like making Ian feel bad, but he desperately needed the space.He crossed his arms.“Then do what I ask you to. Go home.Go to a hotel.I don’t fucking care, but get some rest, please.”

“You’re an asshole.”Ian growled as he hastily grabbed up his things and slammed out of the room.

Mickey flopped his head back on the bed.He hated upsetting Ian, always had, though it had gotten much worse after Ian’s diagnosis.He did not know what would set him off anymore.He told himself Ian’s ups and downs were not his responsibility, but now he was wishing he had not been so harsh.Ian meant well.The issues between them were more Mickey’s than Ian’s anyway.He pulled out his phone.

//I’m an asshole// He typed then paused before he hit send.

He should probably wait for at least 30 minutes to give Ian time to go home or a hotel or...go on a bender, or hurt himself, or...Mickey hit send.

Bubbles almost immediately appeared so at least Ian was alive and not so angry he was giving Mickey the silent treatment.Mickey sighed in relief.

//True//

Mickey snorted.//Where u going?//

//Hotel//

//Which one?// Mickey asked. Too often Ian had disappeared without a word of where he was.Mickey didn’t want to go through that again. 

The bubbles appeared again and disappeared.

There was a long pause during which Mickey began to worry he had set Ian off again.Then the bubbles reappeared.Words followed.//Weston Grande//

//Ok// Mickey texted back.The pause must have been Ian booking the room. 

He thought about continuing the conversation, but decided to let it go. 

Ian would come back in the morning like he had the preceding day.They could work it out then.

***

Ian walked into his hotel room and set his bag on the bed.He yawned.His evening meds were peaking, but he was not ready to sleep yet.His mind was still churning. 

He was not sure what he was feeling.Hurt, angry, sad, resigned, all those words almost fit, but none were quite right. 

All he really wanted was for things to be okay between himself and Mickey.They would never be the way they had been, too much had happened, but they could still be happy.Ian knew it.He was absolutely certain.

In his certainty, he was pushing too hard.

It had only been two days ago Mickey had revealed what happened to him.There had been no further discussion.It sat in Ian’s belly like a hard lump, but the focus had swung immediately to Mickey’s hip and perhaps that was a good thing since Ian needed time to process what he had been told.

Mickey needed time, too.He had treated this secret the same way he had treated coming out.It happened in a defiant rush without finesse or forethought.The pieces could fall where they may.Mickey might or might not deal with them later. 

Ian imagined Mickey thought this would be held against him the same way he thought being gay would be held against him.No one had cared then other than his dad, and no one would care about this either.Well, almost no one.

Ian cared.Deeply. 

He had pushed Mickey to come out, basically forcing the issue by threatening to leave.He had wanted Mickey to own who he was.In retrospect Ian understood pushing Mickey to come out had been less about Mickey and more about validating his own sense of self worth. 

There was a lot of guilt there.If he had not forced Mickey to come out maybe none of this would have happened to him.Terry would have thought what he walked in on was a one off and Mickey never would have been hurt like this. 

Ian could not take back what had happened in the past, but he could resist repeating the same mistakes.This time he would wait until Mickey was ready and brought it up himself. 

That’s why he left when Mickey told him to without further protest.

It was hard, because going after what he wanted had never been a problem for him. 

He loved Mickey.He always had and he always would.Someday he would ask Mickey to marry him.Someday he would ask Mickey to adopt with him so Yev could have some siblings.They would be a family and prove to themselves and everyone else that people like them could do it and do it right.

The future was all right there in front of him, crystal clear and beautiful, but that was only his vision.Mickey’s might be completely different and he had to respect that. 

But the way Mickey looked at him sometimes gave him hope.

He just had to be patient, tough as it was.Patience had never been his strong suit, but he was going to try. 

He dug through his bag and found the makeup remover Mandy had packed for him.He headed for the bathroom.

He took the huge and mildly uncomfortable black contacts out of his eyes and blinked at his reflection.Even under layers of black and white makeup, he looked like shit.

Maybe Mickey was right.He did need the sleep.Since Mickey revealed what happened to him, every time Ian closed his eyes his imagination presented him with horrors.Obviously he was not sleeping well.

Maybe he was tired enough now to just pass out.He hoped he was. 

He stripped out of his clothes, the Jack Skellington suit clinging to him like a second skin, fighting it’s removal.The costume had been a pun anyway.He had been called the Pumpkin King in the past because of his red hair.Why people were always so mean to gingers he didn’tknow, but he was having the last laugh now.Success really was the best revenge.

He finally got the suit off and tossed it on the floor.He turned on the shower and waited for the water to heat up before stepping in.

He washed his face, ears and neck until the water ran clear.Then he washed his hair.

It was a habit left over from childhood where the only privacy he ever got was in the shower, but Ian’s cleaning turned into tugging and he was hard before he knew he was jerking off.

This was all he would be getting for a while, probably a long while. 

The moment Mickey had come to live with him, Ian had called Greg and Louis and put an end to their arrangements. 

If he wanted to win back Mickey’s trust, he was going to have to prove he could be faithful when he was leveled out.If he went manic all bets were off, but what he could control he would.

Since the first time they fucked, Ian’s mind had been blown by how easily Mickey took him.There had not been much to compare it to back then, only Kash had preceded Mickey, but since then Ian had had enough sex to know that Mickey’s ass was a marvel.No one else had ever come close to feeling as good as Mickey did.It was like Ian was Goldilocks and only Mickey fit him just right.

Since that very first time, Ian’s spank bank was almost nothing but Mickey.The smooth curve of his bubble shaped ass, strong thighs, pretty uncut cock...just the thought got him hard. 

What would happen though if Mickey couldn’t get over what had happened to him?What if Mickey couldn’t bottom for him anymore? 

Ian was more than willing to let Mickey top him even if it was not his preferred position, but what he craved was to be inside the brunette, balls deep and held tight.Awash in memories of Mickey he came, hot and hard, panting at the effort.

Tired and spent, Ian climbed out of the shower and dried off, then he laid down in the bed and fell asleep.


	16. 16. Rehab, the Redux

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was a pretty interesting discussion about Mickey’s coming out in the comments last night which I really enjoyed. I’ve never written anything that’s sparked a debate I got to witness before, so that was exciting.
> 
> Anyway, thanks to everyone who is reading for the thoughtful comments. They are food for the soul!

Ian had returned to the hospital bright and early just as Mickey expected.He looked like he had slept which confirmed Mickey had made the right decision kicking him out last night.

The morning was pretty typical.Mickey went for another walk with PT which hurt but went well.Dr. Gonzalez came by and decreed Mickey was fit to go home.Dr. Mohammed came by and they talked about how and when to take the sublingual Ativan he had prescribed. 

Mickey did not like being on a drug he had enjoyed a little too much in the past, but he liked the idea of permanent, irreversible damage to his hip even less.He promised he would take the meds as prescribed.

The long process of discharging began.

Throughout it all Ian was pretty quiet, which Mickey had at first welcomed but was now discomfited by.“What’s on your mind, fire crotch?”

“I got you a home health aide.A pair of them actually.I was wondering if you’d like them.” 

Mickey shrugged. That was absolutely not what the redhead was thinking, but Mickey decided to let Ian keep his secrets for now.

Dr. Gonzalez had been adamant about there being an aide for at least the first week, preferably two weeks.Mickey did not want a stranger in the house, but if the alternative was going to a rehab he was willing to deal with it. 

Mickey was fully capable of recognizing the irony that only two weeks ago he had wanted to go to rehab to avoid being near Ian and now that insurance would pay for it, he refused to go. He did not want to be locked up in a hospital, and as much as he did not want to admit it, he also did not want to be away from Ian. 

Mickey and Dr. Gonzalez negotiated a compromise in which Mickey submitted to the home health aide and Gonzo switched PT companies so Mickey didn’t have to see Jim anymore.The guy had not taken the hint, even when bluntly told to back the fuck off.

Mickey would have preferred to just take care of himself.He would also prefer to get his hip healed without any further problems, so if this is what Dr. Gonzalez wanted, he would deal with it for now.

“Christy’s meeting us here with the van soon.”Ian said.

“Great.”Mickey snarked, but he sort of meant it.He had hoped Ian would hire a woman.While he did not like anyone touching him, it was easier if it was a woman.Less to fuel his memories and imagination with.

“I think you’ll like her.She’s with us seven am to seven pm Monday, Wednesday and Friday.Her partner, Annette, will be with us Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday.We’re on our own at night and on Sundays.”

Mickey wondered if Ian meant partner in the domestic sense, not that it mattered.Both aides were women.If they were not complete bitches, Mickey could handle it.He still didn’t like it though.“Can’t wait for Sunday then.” 

“It won’t be any worse than having Bailey or Kristen looking after you.”Ian chided.

“Says you.”Mickey did not like having Bailey or Kristen looking after him either.Bailey had helped him with a sponge bath yesterday.She had been cool about it, letting him handle the front half, but he had still hated every single second of her hands on him.

Ian nodded like he understood, though he could not possibly.They were silent for a moment and then Ian said, “At least the food will be better, you grouch.”

“Thank God for that.Food here is shit.”All hospital food was shit, but it was miles better than prison food.Eating off takeout menus at Ian’s was like eating manna from heaven by comparison to either institution. 

Bailey bustled in to tell them to call the car around front and Ian spent a little time on his phone making sure Christy was in the right place while Bailey helped Mickey get dressed in a sweater and basketball shorts from Ian’s bag.With the brace on his knee, the pants Mandy had brought would not fit. 

Bailey got him into a standing position, held up by his crutches as she pulled his shorts up over his ass.A tech positioned the wheelchair behind him and together they helped him sit.The tech tossed a blanket over his knees to help keep out the cold. 

Ian hung up his phone.“Van’s out front.”

“Then let’s get this show on the road.”Bailey said brightly.

They wheeled down to the exit and Mickey got his first look at his new caretaker.Christy was a mountain of a woman, built like a linebacker with at least 100 pounds on Mickey.She was probably in her 50’s, with short brown hair and kind eyes.

She introduced herself with a handshake so firm it almost hurt and then skillfully maneuvered his wheelchair into the van.

The drive through the city to Ian’s house was bumpy and uncomfortable.Traffic was bad.By the time they arrived, Mickey was in a foul mood.He hurt, he was tired and he was hungry.

Once settled in his bed, he felt a little better.He took his pills and ate the sandwich Christy had made him as a snack before dinner.

Ian made some excuses and retreated to his home office for a while leaving Mickey and Christy alone.Turned out she was a gamer.She was working her way through Hellgate High and convinced Mickey to join her.It was a good game though he would have preferred to play Torchlight.

Mickey grudgingly decided he liked her.

At some point he fell asleep and when he woke Christy was sitting the the chair by the window working on a crossword. 

It felt weird waking up with her there. “Are you always going to be in here with me?”

“That’s the job.”She replied with a shrug.

Mickey frowned.Even in the hospital the nurses had not been with him 24/7.He called them when he needed them.

“I’ll be going to make you some supper here in a moment, so you’ll have some alone time, don’t you fret.”Christy said, reading his mind.

“You have to cook, too?”This being a home health aide thing was more involved than he thought.

She shook her head.“I don’t have to, but you boys look like you could use some home cooking.”

Mickey’s stomach took that moment to growl.Home cooking meant something different to different people though so before he let himself get too excited, he asked, “What’re you making?”

“Angel chicken.”

“That’ll take a while, huh?”

She put her puzzle book down and looked at him with a slight frown.“Why are you so keen to get rid of me?”

“It’s fucking weird you sitting over there watching me all the time.”Then he figured out why it bothered him so much.It felt like being on suicide watch.

“I’m here if you need me.”

Mickey wasn’t suicidal.He had been for a while in prison, but that was a long time ago.Now he knew why it upset him he wanted her out of the room even more. “Well, I don’t so get the fuck out.”

She just smiled at him and then returned to her crossword.

“Christ.”

“Let’s just see how it goes, okay?I’m going to go down in a minute.You need help to the bathroom first?”

How did women always know how to prove their point without lifting a finger?Yes, he needed help to the God damn bathroom.Fuck.

***

“You get your grade yet?”

Mandy turned from the refrigerator to find Mickey sitting on the couch in the living room.Christy or Annette or whoever was supposed to be there with him today was MIA.He was alone.“What?”

“For the party.Did you get your grade?” He was holding an iPad in his lap and looking a little forlorn.Mandy grabbed an apple and headed over to the couch to join her brother.

“It’s our final project, Mickey.It’s not due until December, but if I don’t get an A my teacher is a dead woman.”There was no way she wouldn’t get an A.Even if she did go over budget, which she might have, the buzz on social media had been such that Ian’s next party would be one of the hotter tickets in town. 

December’s Claymore Holiday party was just a little too late in the year to use for her project, but she was planning that one, too.The hotel had asked her to co-host their New Year’s Eve party and she was also planning Ian’s New Year’s bash.Having three more big events scheduled after the success of her Halloween party should guarantee her an A.

“I saw it online.Looked pretty epic.”

“You look at social media?Since when?”Mandy felt like her eyes were bugging out of her head.She never would have guessed Mickey was into social media.

He shrugged and arched a defiant eyebrow.“Since I’m bored as fuck and don’t have anything better to do.Who was the devil?”

Ah, so that was why he was asking.He had been cyber stalking Ian.She shook her head.“That’s Sven Stevensen from accounting.You jealous?”

“Fuck no.Just wondering.”Mickey scoffed.

Mandy snatched the iPad from his hands and started browsing her feed looking for photos.“You have nothing to worry about.Sven is married with two kids.”

Mickey frowned.“To a woman?”

Mandy rolled her eyes.For a gay man, Mickey had some very traditional views of family.She kept browsing until she found the photo that had probably set Mickey off.Ian was laughing and the way Sven’s body was positioned it looked like they might be grinding as they danced.Mandy knew that was not the case though because standing in the background was Sven’s husband Mike.She pointed to him so Mickey could see.“No, fuck nuts. To a man.This guy.See?No competition.Quit worrying.”

“Not worrying.” Mickey said as he snatched the iPad back from her and looked hard at Sven’s husband.He was dressed as an angel and smiling at his husband dancing with Ian.

“Riiight.”Mandy rolled her eyes.Mickey was so obvious sometimes. “Ian only has eyes for you, Mickey.”

He snorted and changed the subject.“You don’t work today?”

“Nope.Day off, thank God.I have at least a week’s worth of studying to catch up on though.Will you please stop being hospitalized so I can get my work done?”

He smiled, but looked down at his braced knee.“Trying to, fuck.”

“Where’s your keeper?”Mandy asked.Either Christy or Annette had been glued to Mickey’s side since he came home Monday. 

Mickey shifted.“Presumably Christy is letting Dr. Mo in but given how long it’s taking she’s probably ratting me out for some shit or other.”

“So you like her.”Mandy stated.Mickey did not warm up to people easily, but he seemed to tolerate both women better than most.

“It’s sorta like having a mom.”Mickey said quietly, almost like he was talking to himself.

“Oh.”Mandy had not thought about her mom in a long time.Their mom had tried, but between a heroin addiction and an abusive husband, she had sucked at mothering.

“I mean, like she’s June Cleaver or something, if she came in a big, bull dike package.”He chucked to himself.

Mandy did not get the reference.“Who?”

“ _Leave it to Beaver_?” 

She knew the title, but could not remember the show or any of it’s characters.She just knew it was in black and white and old as fuck.“Which century do you live in again?”

“We used to watch reruns with mom, remember?”

Yeah, she remembered now.She remembered looking at her strung out mother and wondering why she could not be like the lady on the TV.There were never cookies in the oven when they came home from school.Dinner came out of the microwave if there was one.She remembered.“Yeah.”

“You ever miss her?”

Mandy thought about that.She did miss her mom in the same way someone would miss a lost opportunity, which did not seem quite right. It felt more like their mother had been just another person living in their house.She was a junkie who occasionally remembered she had kids and tried to get her shit together only to fail again as soon as Terry came home. She had wanted her mom to be like some of the other moms Mandy saw at school or on that stupid black and white show they used to watch with her, but Iliana Aleksandrovna Milkovich had been way too far gone to be much of anything to anyone.“I guess.”

“She tried.”Mickey sighed.“Wish I had a picture of her.”

Oh. _Oh._ Their mother had died ten years ago today.No wonder he was acting like this.

No one knew what had happened Terry’s first wife, Jamie, Joey, Colin and Iggy’s mom.She just didn’t come back one day.The unspoken assumption was she was dead though no one could prove anything.

Mickey and Mandy were born to Terry’s second wife, a mail order bride from Ukraine, who had been 12 at the time he ‘married’ her.Her parents sent her to the US because they thought it would be a better life.Mandy remembered Iliana telling her this with tears in her eyes.Mickey was born shortly after they wed and Mandy two years later.Iliana was addicted to heroin as far back as Mandy could remember and dead of an overdose by Mandy’s 13th birthday.

Mandy remembered there had been a photo from the wedding on the mantle in the old house.It was the only photo she knew of that had their mother in it.Iliana had looked very young, bright and hopeful.She did not yet know she was really just a bought and paid for sex slave with a ring on her finger.

“She was beautiful.I remember how pretty her eyes were.Same color as yours.”Mandy recalled.Mandy looked more like her, she thought, but Mickey had gotten her eyes.

“Yeah.”He sounded far away.

Terry had let Iliana name her son which was why it sounded so Ukrainian.Mandy had not been so lucky. An angry, drunken Terry told her once he had named her Amanda Cherry for the whore he was banging when she was born.She did not know if that was true or not.Her mother told her she had wanted her to be called Nadezhda Aleksandra.Not for the first time Mandy thought about changing her name.“It stops with us, Mickey.”

“What?”

“All of it.It stops with us.You and me.” They had already overcome some of Terry’s legacy.They had education, respectable jobs and lived above the poverty line.What was to say they could not just obliterate his legacy entirely?“I can’t wait to get married just to get rid of his name.Fuck being a Milkovich.When you and Ian get married you should take Ian’s name, too.”

“Like that’s gonna happen.”Mickey scoffed.

Mandy was on a roll though.“No, I’m serious.You remember how mom would call me Nadezhda?What if I became Nadezhda Aleksandrovich?I’d spell it N-A-D-E-G-E, the French way, since its easier and use her family name as a surname.What do you think?”

“Really?”Mickey asked, surprised but also thoughtful.

“It’s bad enough we have his DNA.Why do we have to carry around his name, too?”

“True.”

There was a knock by the landing that drew their attention.The tall West Asian possibly Middle Eastern man standing there had to be Dr. Mohammed who had been surprising willing to make a house call.Mandy eyed him for a long moment, sizing him up.God, if her father could see who Mickey was taking life advise from, he would probably have a stroke.

The only people Terryhated more than gays were Muslims.

“Am I interrupting?”The doctor asked in a soft voice With a hint of an accent.

“Nah, Doc.I’m just leaving.”Mandy said getting up and shaking out her hair.It felt like shaking off the weight of their earlier conversation and she was able to smile.“Got studying to do.”

She brushed past Christy on her way up the stairs and then stopped turning to stare at the older woman until she also began to make her way up stairs.

***

“I couldn’t help but overhear the last part of your conversation with your sister, is that right?”Dr. Mohammed asked as he sat down on one of the chairs across from Mickey.

“Yeah, that’s Mandy.”He confirmed, putting the iPad on the couch table beside him.

“Would you change your name?”

“Never thought about it before.” Mickey replied honestly.Until Terry showed up on his unit in prison Mickey had worn his name like a shield.Once Terry made it clear he hated his son, his name became a liability.It had still never occurred to him to abandon it.Now though, he could see Mandy’s point.“Maybe? I dunno.”

“Why were you talking about changing your name?”

“Talking about mom.”Mickey had not talked much about her to Dr. Mohammed, or anyone really.She had been sort of a non-entity in his life since long before she died.When he missed her it was usually just the idea of her he missed. 

“Ah, yes, it was ten years ago today that she passed.”Dr. Mo nodded.

Mickey was amazed at the details the psychiatrist was able to remember.Dates, times, names, places, it was like he knew more about Mickey’s life than Mickey did.“How do you remember this shit?”

The older man smiled.“If it is important to you, it is important to me.How do you feel remembering her today?”

“Wish I had a picture.” Mickey replied.There had been one on the mantle for a while, but it disappeared and he didn’t know where it had gone.Terry probably destroyed it in one of his drunken rages. “I can’t remember what she looked like anymore.I mean, I know she sorta looked like Mandy.Dark hair, pale skin, blue eyes.She was pretty and had a great smile.”

At least she had until their dad knocked out three of her front teeth and she stopped smiling to hide it.Shaking off that image, Mickey moved on to something else he was thinking about.“How weird is it that my mom would only be 38 now?She would have been a grandma at 32.”

“She was very young when she had you.”

“Yeah.Two months shy of her 14th birthday.”Mickey had been thrown for a loop by fatherhood at 18 and that was fucking young to be a dad.She had just been a baby herself.“Another life my dad destroyed.”

“You and your sister have overcome a great deal to get where you are.”Dr. Mohammed agreed.Then he said,“Your mother would be proud of you.”

Mickey scoffed.

“You do not agree?”

“It’s not that.”Mickey was quick to say.His mother probably would be proud of them just for surviving their father this long, never mind the other things they had accomplished.“I was just thinking, we used to watch _Leave it to Beaver_ with her when we were little.That was her American dream, you know?Like Terry Milkovich was ever gonna be Ward fucking Cleaver.She used to tell us that was what family was supposed to be like in America.” 

Mickey snorted in derision.His mother had been a child raising children.She never stood a chance.

“A vastly idealized version.My parents thought similarly when they immigrated from Yemen, but America is not television.”

“Still better than anywhere else.”Mickey shrugged.His father’s stoic Americanism had been far better indoctrinated than his racism or homophobia.

Dr. Mohammed gently disagreed.“Anything that has been idealized is bound to disappoint in reality.This is why so many people struggle with money or relationships or just being happy.What they are comparing themselves to is an idealized impossibility seen in television, movies or social media.”

“I guess.”By that definition, Mickey was about as grounded in reality as a person could get.

Dr. Mohammed changed the subject.“So how is your hip?”

“Better.Stiff, but less painful.”Mickey was hoping this time it would just heal and get better.The Zoloft and Ativan were really helping him stay even.Things were not getting to him so much right now.

“That’s good.Have you needed the sublingual Ativan?”

“Nah.So far so good.”There had been a couple moments where he thought he should have been set off, but they had passed.

Dr. Mohammed made a note.“I see.How are things with Ian?”

“Okay.He’s in his office upstairs.”

“Have you talked?”Of course Dr. Mohammed saw right through his evasion.

“We talk every day.”Mickey countered though he knew that was not what Dr. Mohammed meant.

Dr. Mohammed arched an eyebrow.

“No.”He finally admitted.They had not talked about it.

“Why?”

“It hasn’t come up.”

“Yes, things like rape tend not to come up in day to day conversation.”Dr. Mohammed replied with a shake of his head and a small indulgent smile.Then he changed course asking, “How do you feel about Ian knowing and not saying anything?”

“Fine.”Mickey snapped back, but that was not really true nor was it the answer Dr. Mohammed was looking for.“I dunno.What do you want me to say?”

“Is he treating you differently?”

“Not really.” Mickey shrugged.

Mickey had left an opening and Dr. Mohammed probed.“But a little?”

“He’s more careful, I guess. Keeping himself to himself like I asked him to.”Mickey explained.He had told Ian to back off and Ian had done exactly that.

“You sound disappointed.”

“No, just, shit, Doc. I dunno.”The Ian Mickey knew was incapable of backing off unless he was done with something.Once he was done, he was really fucking done.It had been pretty black and white in the past.Granted there was time and a lot of water under the bridge, but it was not like the guy had had a personality transplant.Mickey feared Ian was reaching the end of his rope just as Mickey was starting to climb back up his.“Like I’m glad he’s not all over me, but at the same time I kinda wish he was.”

“Because you fear the reason he is standoffish is because of what you revealed to him?”

“What else would it fucking be?I’m not an idiot.”Mickey snapped.

“No one said you were.”Dr. Mohammed opened his hands wide in a conciliatory gesture.

Mickey continued.“I felt like when he was pushing me, I was getting more okay with it, kinda.Like, he could touch me and I’d tell myself this is Ian, it’s okay, and it would be, you know?”

“So you want him to touch you.”Dr. Mohammed stated.

“Yeah.”Mickey admitted.He didn’t want to be groped, but he had liked the small touches, the little gestures that had been becoming more common and more comfortable. They had gone missing since their mini fight on the night of Ian’s Halloween party.In fact, Ian had gone missing.They still saw each other in the morning and evening, but during the day Mickey was stuck with either Christy or Annette for company.

“Perhaps you need to say that to him.”

“He’d take it as an invitation.”Mickey immediately balked.

“Is it not?”

“Fuck.”Mickey groaned.Ian had a habit of taking a mile when he was given an inch.It was a normal Southside trait to milk every opportunity for all it was worth, but Mickey did not have a mile to give right now.

Dr. Mohammed sat silent for a while to give Mickey time to think about what it was he wanted. Ian would offer him the world, but he wouldn't deliver.He would try, but he couldn’t.His bipolar wouldn’t let him. Mickey had been cheated on, lied to and abandoned.He didn’t want to go through that again, but at the same time, it was _Ian_. 

Fucking Ian.

“How do you feel about how you shared the rape with Ian?”

Mickey jerked back from his thoughts.“What do you mean?”

“Did it go as you planned?” 

“You think I planned that?”Mickey asked, incredulous.He would have taken that secret to his grave if it had been possible.

“No.I do not.”

“I just couldn’t hold it in anymore.”He admitted.It was exactly like his coming out, rushed and ill timed. 

“I know.”

Like his coming out he had avoided talking about it as long as he possibly could and then when he finally found himself in a corner, he blurted it out like an idiot. 

It had been cathartic to come out, like he had taken back something his father had had no right to withhold from him, but that only lasted for a second.He had dropped a bomb on his life and while no one other than his father had really cared, the aftermath left him shell shocked and broken.This was exactly the same, as if he had learned nothing from coming out.“I shouldn’t have done it like that.”

“There is no right or wrong way.”Dr. Mohammed assured him. 

Mickey did not believe that for a second.“I chose the hard way though, didn’t I?”

“There is no easy way, Mickey.I wish there were.”Dr. Mohammed replied.Mickey looked at him.He was telling the truth.After a moment, Dr. Mohammed continued,“Some people prefer to deal with traumatic events in small increments, processing their way through before sharing their trauma with other people.You chose to reveal all in a single moment.There are no more secrets which is a good thing.There is only healing, but it is a lot to chew in such a large bite.It requires you to process through your own feelings and the feelings of those around you at the same time.”

“Yeah.”When he came out he had been surprised how little anyone else cared.It had been huge for him and shrug worthy for everyone else, well, besides his father and a couple like minded uncles.

This was very different. 

Dr. Mohammed glanced at his watch.“Our time is almost up.I have homework for you.”

“Of course you do.”Mickey nodded, defeated and also a little interested.So far Dr. Mohammed had not asked him to do much, just talk.He doubted they were doing the kind of talking Dr. Mohammed wanted them to be doing.Dr. Mohammed probably wanted deep inner emotions and shit.He would probably make Mickey journal or something.He had tried to get Mickey to do that once before in prison, but the risk of discovery had kept Mickey from having to complete the task.

“I want you to tell Ian how you feel about him backing off.”

Mickey’s thoughts stuttered to a halt.That was not what he was expecting.“The fuck for?”

“Because it is little things like this that cause big problems later.”

Mickey could think of at least five reasons off the top of his head why he did not want to do it.“But...”

“It is sometimes easier to tell someone when something is too much than to ask them for more when it is too little, do you not think?” 

Okay, that was true.It was easier to tell someone to back off than it was to ask for more.But that still required he tell Ian he missed him which Mickey wasn’t sure he wanted to do. What if he was just giving the ginger idiot false hope?What if he was setting both of them up for disappointment?What if Ian made him talk about it?He wasn’t ready to talk about it.

Dr. Mohammed was staring at him. 

Wearing a sour expression, Mickey conceded, “I’ll think about it.”

“You need a support system, Mickey.”

“I have Mandy.”

“Yes, you do and I am not discounting her importance.” Dr. Mohammed was quick to agree, but then he asked, “Is she who you look to when you need support?”

Crap.Mandy was his sister and they were closer now than they had ever been, but if Mickey had to pick someone to rely on, Mandy was not it.She would try as best she could, but she was a Milkovich.They tended to show up en mass to beat someone down who threatened one of them, but they ran for the hills when feelings were involved.“No.”

Dr. Mohammed raised an eyebrow at him.

“I’m fine by myself.”He had always been by himself.No one in his entire life, except Ian sometimes, had ever...he was fine by himself.

“So you would rather go through this alone then and by extension you want Ian to go through this alone, too.”

“No, I...he...it’s not...”He trailed off realizing he had indeed burdened the most fragile person he knew with something horrible.

“When you chose to reveal the rape to him, you entrusted him with a trauma.He _is_ going through this with you.”

Fuck.“So what do you want me to do?”

Dr. Mohammed just stared at him.

“What would you _advise_ me to do?”Mickey rephrased.

“I’ve given you homework.What you decide to do, is up to you.”

Mickey nodded knowing that was the end of it as far as the doctor was concerned. 

“The real work begins next week.Call me if you need me, yes?”Dr. Mohammed said rising from his seat.

Mickey nodded again.Dr. Mohammed’s cell phone number was saved in his phone.If he had to he would call.“Thanks, Doc.I’d see you out, but...”

Mickey gestured to his hip.

“It is no trouble.I’ll see you next week.”With that the psychiatrist made his way down the stairs leaving Mickey with a lot to think about.

***

Ian entered the kitchen feeling drained.He had spent far longer working than he had intended. He had gone up to his home office at 10 o’clock and it was almost seven now.

He had rethought the game a bit, choosing to do Japan later down the line. 

He would start with English since it was the most popular language to study in the world.He had originally thought about setting it during the Civil War, but decided instead on the American Revolution since it would get him the cool English accents and more proper sounding language.Maybe as they added levels they could move forward through history.

They would make it scalable and expandable so as people grew in their language skills the difficulty of the game grew with them.

He had spoken with the lawyers and come up with a compensation package for the original idea that Ian thought was fair.It was a lower percentage, but spanned all versions of the game, so if it went well the idea man would make more money over the long haul. 

He had identified a research team to start digging into the era and finding ways to make history playable.There were a few events he already knew for sure he wanted to include and he had made a list of those.

He had also gotten the search started for ESL educators who could help them with content.

The design team would be key and he was still mulling over who he wanted on it when he glanced at the clock and realized he had been at his desk for nine hours straight.

“Christy just left.There’s meatloaf in the fridge.”Mickey said.

Ian jumped, thinking he was alone.“Oh hey, didn’t know you were down here.” 

He looked a Mickey for a long moment.The other man was sitting on the couch staring at an iPad.Ian turned his attention back to the fridge and the large pan sitting inside it and sighed. “Meatloaf.”

“It’s not bad if you like cafeteria food.”

Christy was not a gourmet, but she insisted on cooking on the nights she worked.Annette knew her limitations and let Ian order in.

“I hate meatloaf.”Ian said, slamming the refrigerator door shut and pulling out his phone.

“You and me both.”Mickey agreed. 

“So you didn’t really eat did you?”There was a time not long ago when both of them would have eaten whatever landed on their plates whether they liked it or not, but they did not have to do that anymore.Mickey still struggled to refuse food he didn’t like, instead he would nibble at it, push it around on the plate and make little sculptures.He would circle back to the kitchen and snack on things he did like later.

“I’m okay.”Mickey said, but Ian didn’t believe him.Mickey loathed meatloaf.No way he ate it.

Just to confirm Ian asked, “But if I order in you’d eat, right?”

“Yeah.” 

Ian scrolled through the menu options. “Mexican?”

“Yeah, okay.”

“Fajitas okay with you?They come with everything.”It was great for sharing and was still edible the next day if there were leftovers.

“Sure.”Mickey agreed.

Something in his voice sounded off.Ian took another look at him.Mickey was still staring at the iPad.Avoiding him again.Ian sighed.He hated this.“You okay?”

“Yeah, just thinking.”Mickey finally looked at him.He looked...adrift was the best word Ian could come up with.

“You saw Dr. Mo today, right?”Ian asked, carefully not looking up from his phone. 

“Yeah.”Mickey confirmed.

That was probably the reason.Ian bought himself a moment by ordering their dinner.He knew from personal experience not to ask for details about their session.Instead he asked, “You feeling okay?”

“Just left me with a lot to think about, like he always does.”Mickey replied, gaze returning to the iPad.

Ian watched Mickey close himself off and sighed.He wished there was some way he could make this better.“Shrinks are great at that.By the time you have it worked out you’ll be seeing him again so he can give you more to puzzle out.”

“Don’t I know it.”Mickey agreed looking up, expression thoughtful.

It gave Ian enough hope to ask, “Anything you feel like talking about?”

“I...maybe, but not yet.I need to think about it a little more.”

“Sure, okay.”Ian shrugged.He was doing a lot of that lately and it was killing him.He wanted to just deal with it, but Mickey had been pretty standoffish and he didn’t want to make that worse.Instead he turned and started back towards the stairs.He would go take a shower and change before the food arrived.

As he reached the landing Mickey called, “Hey, fire crotch?”

“Yeah?” Ian paused and turned around, looking at Mickey.

Mickey looked a little nervous.“Wanna watch _Double Impact_?”

“Really?”Ian asked.Mickey hated van Damme, especially in _Double Impact_. 

“Yeah.”Mickey sounded more certain.

“Sure, Mickey.” Ian agreed, glad Mickey was reaching out, small gesture though it was.“But why don’t you pick something you actually like?I’m gonna go shower and put on my PJs.Then I’ll be right back down.”

“Cool.”Mickey nodded picking up the remote.

Ian took his time in the shower.Mickey had offered an olive branch, which was great.Ian had been beginning to fray around the edges waiting for Mickey to reach out again.He knew he had to be careful and not push, which would be hard, but he could do it.He was doing it.

As if to mock him and his good intentions, Ian’s dick decided to make its presence known.He had talked to Dr. Brynner about changing his meds to ones he had refused to take before because they had reduced his libido before, but she felt that would be unwise.What he was on was working.Besides, she was not in the habit of chemically castrating her patients unless they were a danger to others.

When the word castration entered the conversation Ian had immediately let the idea drop.He would just have to get used to jerking off in the shower again like he was a teenager.No biggy.

Speaking of, he stroked one out before exiting the shower.

He chose a hunter green Henley and plaid pajama bottoms because though Mickey had never said it, he knew the brunette liked him in green.It brought out his eyes, which Ian thought of as more hazel than green since they could also seem blue or brown depending on his shirt color and the lighting, but Mickey insisted they were green so, whatever. 

The shirt was an older one and a little tight across the chest, but then that was sort of the point.He had worked hard for this body.Letting Mickey get a hint of it was not a bad thing.In fact, it was sort of the only thing since they were not really talking right now.

Things had been awkward since Mickey had come home from the hospital.The rape was a huge elephant in the room and Ian wasn’t sure where the boundaries were.He did not want to overstep so he had been keeping his distance.It was torture having Mickey so close and not being able to touch him or talk to him, but Mickey had made it very clear he did not want to be pushed.Ian was trying to respect that.

He was glad Mickey had reached out with the movie offer.He just did not want to mess it up by getting over eager.

As he stepped off the landing onto the second floor, Mickey asked, “You okay with _Fast and Furious 8_?”

“Sure.I can watch Vin Diesel all day.”The truth was the whole criminal with a heart of gold thing Diesel played in these movies was what did it for Ian.It reminded him of Mickey. 

“He’s okay.”Mickey agreed.

Ian was considering the best place to sit when the AI announced, “Front door delivery,” and an image appeared on the corner of the TV screen of a man holding two white bags with a car behind him with an Uber sticker on it.Ian went down and retrieved the food.

When he came back, Mickey was trying to get to his feet.“Gotta piss.”

“Sure.” Ian replied resisting the urge to go over and help Mickey to the bathroom.Mickey could do it himself.Ian turned to the cabinet with the dishes.“I’ll plate up.How hungry are you?”

“Starving.” Mickey said as he made his way to the half bath between the kitchen and the landing.“I hate meatloaf.Just didn’t have the heart to tell her.”

“Does anyone actually like meatloaf?”Ian muttered as the door closed and the fan came on blocking sound.

Ian took the food, plates and cutlery into the living room and put it on the coffee table.Then he went back to the kitchen to consider the drink options.He grabbed two bottles of water, a can of Coke and a beer.

He went back to the couch and sat down in the middle of it, ostensibly so he could plate up from the coffee table, but really so maybe Mickey could guide where he sat to watch the movie.Was he staying in the middle or moving over to the opposite corner?

Mickey came back out and made his way to his usual seat on the couch rather than wedging himself into the corner.“Looks good.”

“Figured you’d want a little of each.”They had steak, chicken and shrimp fajitas.

“Yeah.”Mickey agreed, taking the plate from Ian’s hand.Their fingers touched.

How could something so small feel so erotic, Ian wondered.He felt like he was back in Victorian times when seeing an ankle was practically orgasmic. 

Mickey started the movie. 

They made it through dinner and about half the film before Ian noticed Mickey’s growing agitation.

His knee was bouncing and he had shot three short glances at Ian before he finally broke the silence by saying, “I don’t want this bullshit where we barely even talk.”

Ian hid a relieved smile.He had hated the awkwardness that had settled between them.Still, it was not as if things could just go back to the way they had been.There was still an elephant in the room.“Okay, I don’t like not talking to you either, but I don’t know where the line is, Mickey, and I don’t want to step over it.”

Mickey shrugged.“I don’t fucking know where the line is either.I just know when it’s too much.”

“So what I’m hearing you say is you want me to push you a little, but also back off when you tell me to, is that it?”Ian said, trying to summarize and not assume.He wanted Mickey to be as clear as possible about what he needed which was something the brunette had never been able to give him before.

“Jesus, have your head shrunk much?”Mickey snarked.

“Fuck you.Answer the question.”Ian shot back.

“Yeah.How it was before Halloween.That was okay.”

“Then hand it over, tough guy.”Ian held out his hand, palm up.It was utterly ridiculous to be so happy about hand holding, but Ian was over the moon when Mickey put his hand in his.

“This is fucking stupid.”Mickey said with a grin on his face.Apparently he was just as excited as Ian was about the renewed contact.

“Nah, it’s a start.”


	17. 17. Food Fight

Two weeks later and Mickey was getting around much better.He was still on crutches but no longer needed help doing most things. 

He had been able to say goodbye to Christy and Annette which had been a little bittersweet.When he had said having them around reminded him of having a mom, or at least what he assumed having a mom was like, he had not been lying.

Ian had made a similar comment on their last day.Ian had ordered a super fancy steak dinner as a thank you for them.Even Mandy made an effort to be there.

Mickey had tried red wine for the second time in his life only this time he actually liked it.Ian said he figured Mickey would since it was a spicy, dry red from Argentina that cost a small fortune. Between the five of them they downed almost four bottles.

Christy and Annette were indeed a couple and had been together since 1992.Annette had been an EMT and Christy had been a police officer when they met.They had been among the first couples to be married when New York legalized gay marriage in 2011.They had three kids and lived in Queens. 

Ian joked about wanting to be adopted.Mickey had not found it funny.Neither had Mandy based on the pursed lips and posture.

None of them had really had a mom.Ian, at least, had Fiona.She was only six years older, but she had been his sister-mom from infancy.Fiona took care of him.She took care of all the Gallaghers.No one had taken care of Mickey.He had taken care of himself. 

He shook off the encroaching bitterness and focused on the present.

Tonight they were having Svetlana and Yevgeny over for dinner.

Mickey was trying his hand at cooking again.He had been making omelets and sandwiches, but he had not really cooked since the lasagna dinner.He was not so secretly looking forward to it and had spent a long time on Pinterest looking for recipes that also had how-to videos.

He had gone through the kitchen and determined they had almost none of the things he needed for the dinner he was planning.He made a list and then ventured onto the third floor. He had not been on this floor yet having avoided it because it was Ian’s lair and felt too personal given the...whatever it was between them. 

The elevator opened onto a wide landing facing a huge abstract painting.There were double doors to the left and three doors to the right.The double doors were obviously the master bedroom and as curious as he was, Mickey turned away from it.The first door he tried was the gym which was huge and had everything one would expect in a state of the art home gym.Mickey was not surprised.The second was an empty room.

He knocked on the third door and waited until he heard a muffled, “Come in.”

He cracked open the door and poked his head in.“I got you the list for dinner tonight.”

Ian was sitting behind a huge vintage Art Deco desk.Even to Mickey, who was no connoisseur of fine furniture, the thing was fucking gorgeous.The window overlooking the street let in tons of light and there were a couple of large teal blue velvet smoking room chairs in front of it.There was a giant TV on the wall across from the desk which made sense as Ian was one of the major game testers for his company.The other walls had lots of family photos and framed posters.It was the first and only room in the house Mickey had been in that felt like Ian actually lived in it. 

“Did you download that app I told you about?”Ian asked.

“It doesn’t deliver to Brooklyn.”Mickey replied with a shrug.

Ian held out his hand and made a grabby gesture.“Give me your phone.”

“Why?”Mickey asked, suspecting Ian was going to download it anyway and enter his own account information.

“Because as our official chef you are now chief in charge of grocery shopping.Give me your phone.”Ian replied, repeating the grabby gesture.

Mickey did not want Ian paying for him.“Gallagher...”

“Give me the fucking phone, Mickey.I’m eating, too.I can fucking pay for it.”He was smiling when he said it, but Ian’s eyes were serious.

“I don’t need you to.”Mickey bristled.Even on short term disability he was making more money than he ever thought he would in his lifetime.He could afford to buy some fucking groceries.

“I know.When you’re back at work and off disability, if you want to take over grocery costs, be my guest, but for now I insist.”Ian retorted, nothing but chin.

God damn that chin.There was no point arguing with him.Annoyed, Mickey crutch walked into the room and slammed his phone into Ian’s outstretched hand. 

Ian ignored him and entered his information before he handed the phone back.With a grin he said, “Knock yourself out.Literally anything you want you can get on there.”

That was the last straw.He was not a fucking housewife with an allowance. “We’re not a couple. I’m not your goddam _wife_.”

“Seriously?” Ian sighed and pushed back from his desk to give Mickey the full weight of his tired green eyes.“Fine.When you’re well, fuck off back to Brooklyn and delete the app from your phone and me from your life.”

“That’s not what I meant.”Mickey responded. How had Ian made that leap?

“Yeah?Well that’s what I hear when you say shit like that.I _know_ we aren’t a couple.I know you aren’t ready.I got it, okay?”

This was a dramatic turn Mickey had not been anticipating.Obviously whatever this was, it was not only about some groceries.Something else was going on here.“Ian...”

Ian let out humorless chuckle. “Do you know that’s the first time you’ve used my name?”

“What?” 

“That’s the first time you haven’t called me Gallagher or fire crotch or some other insulting nickname.”

Was it really?The look on Ian’s face said it probably was. 

Not using Ian’s name had always been a way of distancing himself.He had done it way back in the beginning when he was still trying to deny he had feelings for Ian.It made sense he was doing it now since he had no fucking clue what he wanted.No wonder the guy was pissed.“It’s hard for me.”

“I know, Mickey.”Ian agreed.“I know, I really do, but I think you forget it’s hard for me, too.”

“Says the millionaire.”Mickey snarked, not sure if he was trying to be funny or mean. 

“Fuck you, Milkovich.”Ian snarled as he pointedly turned his attention back to his iMac. 

Mickey just stood there rooted to the floor wondering what the hell had just happened.

“I’ve got work to do.”Ian muttered dismissively and without looking up. “I’ll be down later for dinner.”

***

Fuck. Fuck, fuckity, fuck, fuck.

Mickey felt like a grade A asshole.

He thought they had been getting along better lately.They spent their evenings together, Ian going on and on about the new game he was working on.Mickey did not have a lot to talk about these days since he wasn’t working so he listened.It had seemed okay. 

Over the past couple weeks, they had gradually moved closer to each other on the couch, siting side by side with arms touching.They leaned on each other.Ian fell asleep in Mickey’s lap two nights ago and it had not been awful.In fact, it had been kinda nice.He had run his fingers through Ian’s red hair and it had felt like old times. 

It was the most physically intimate moment they had shared so far, but Ian had slept through it.

Mickey had been glad for it at the time, though now he was wondering if maybe that was part of the problem.

Ian was not dragging around the same kind of baggage Mickey was.Ian had his shit together.He had been happy before their lives crashed together again. 

Ian had made himself perfectly clear about what he wanted.Mickey, on the other hand, had a lot of doubts. His feelings were all over the place, vacillating from one extreme to another so fast sometimes Mickey wondered if he was the one who had rapid cycling bipolar. 

He snorted at himself.That wasn’t funny.Ian’s bipolar was no joke. 

Ian wanted to resume their relationship.Period. 

Mickey missed the easy familiarity, the inside jokes and the way his skin tingled when Ian touched him.He did not miss the fighting, the cheating or the disappearing.Especially the disappearing.His heart could not take it if Ian ran away again, or worse, deliberately walked away like he had done when Mickey went to prison. 

Then there was _it_ looming large between them.They didn’t talk about it.Ian never mentioned it, but Mickey knew he thought about it.He thought about it when he stopped himself from slinging an arm over Mickey’s shoulder or when he drew back from the kiss he almost gave.Ian probably thought Mickey didn’t notice, but he did and it hurt. 

The alternative would be worse.Mickey’s reaction to unexpected contact was violent rejection and there was only so much of that Ian would (could) tolerate.If Mickey could barely stand to be touched, how were they supposed to be a couple?

He should have explained to Ian the reason he balked at buying groceries on Ian’s account was not so much about the couple thing like he said, but more about the money. 

He was deeply indebted to Ian already, but at least those things Ian had been in control over.Mickey was a passive recipient.Giving him an account to buy groceries meant that Mickey had to _actively_ spend Ian’s money.Somehow it was different and it was what had weirded him out. 

He should just go back up there and explain.No, first he should buy the damn groceries and then he should go up there.

Mickey was going to make a lemon and herb marinated chicken with potatoes au gratin and roasted asparagus. Since the women in his life liked their wine he read up on what wine went with what he was making and settled on the general category of Pinot Grigio. 

He knew Ian had a wine cellar.

It gave him an excuse to go back upstairs and ask Ian if there was any of that particular wine in the cellar.Then he could explain himself and hopefully things would go back to their current version of normal.

“What?”Ian said when Mickey knocked on the door again.He sounded annoyed.

Mickey poked his head through the door.Ian was sitting at his desk staring at his computer pointedly not looking at him.Mickey stepped into the room.He did not like being ignored.

“Do you have any Pinot Grigio in the wine cellar?”

“Probably.”Ian shrugged and glanced up.“That all?”

“No, I...” Say it, Mickey told himself.He took a breath.“I freaked out about the money.I already owe you way too much.”

“Really?Because that’s not what you said.”Ian leaned back in his chair, attention finally on Mickey.

“I know.You just sounded so certain, like it was a done deal.I’m still...add weirdness about money to my list of problems.”Mickey explained, hoping it was enough because he had no other words.

Ian signed and rubbed the back of his head.“I pushed too hard again.”

Yeah.While it would be easier to let Ian take the blame, it was not fair because there was an alternative explanation.“Or I’m being a bitch.”

Typical of Ian, he did not let Mickey take all the responsibility.“So we’re both sorry.Can I assume we’re both forgiven, because you are.”

Mickey smiled.They were getting better at fighting and making up.“Yeah.You can assume that.”

This got a big grin out of Ian.He glanced at his computer screen and then looked back up at Mickey.“I’ve got another hour up here and then I’ll come down and be your sous chef, okay?”

“Sure.Thanks.”Mickey hoped the groceries arrived soon so most of the prep work would be done before Ian came down.The man was pretty worthless in the kitchen. “Okay if I buy the wine if there’s none in the cellar?”

Ian quirked an eyebrow.“Are you seriously asking that right now?”

“No.”Mickey back peddled.Fuck the money issue for now.The peace had been restored.“I’m going to get whatever the fuck I want and you’re gonna pay for it, money bags.”

“Damn right you are.” Ian smiled and made a shooing gesture.“Now fuck off so I can finish this.”

***

“Papa!”Yevgeny yelled as he ran up the stairs to the kitchen.

It gave Mickey time to be ready for the hug that slammed into him seconds later.“Hey, bud.How was school?”

Yevgeny rolled blue eyes at his father’s mistake.“It’s Saturday, Papa.”

“Oh, that’s right.”It was easy to lose track of time when he did the same nothing every day.Svetlana came up the stairs carrying a platter of something.She set it on the counter and walked over to him, kissing him on both cheeks.Mickey awkwardly returned the gesture.Being friendly with his ex-wife still felt weird.“Hey, baby-mama.How’s it hanging?”

“You are not funny, idiot ex-husband.” She pushed him away as Ian entered the kitchen from upstairs. “Orange boy.”

Ian’s hair was damp and carefully combed so it dried into the style he liked.He had shaved, the bruise Mickey had left on his chin long gone.He looked amazing in brown trousers and a cream colored V neck sweater.He landed a peck on each of the Russian’s cheeks.“Hey, Svet.Mandy should be here in a bit.She’s running late.” 

Ian scooped up Yevgeny and threw him around a little making the boy laugh.

“Can I get you some wine?”Mickey asked with a weird feeling in the pit of his stomach, like he was play acting at being someone else.People like him did not offer people wine.People like him did not drink wine.People like him drank shitty beer straight from the can.

Times had changed though for the rest of his family and wine was on the menu. 

Mickey had been astounded by the wine cellar.Coming off the elevator in the basement the first thing he saw was a glass wall covered over by intricately worked wrought iron.The door was made of the same.The other three walls had floor to ceiling racks of bottles.There was a center pillar with even more bottles.There was a library rail around the U shaped room with a ladder attached to make it possible to get to the upper racks.When he opened the door, Mickey had been surprised at how cold it was inside. 

It took 30 minutes of searching to find the wine he had been looking for.

Curiosity made him explore the rest of the basement which held a large laundry room at the back of the house and another kitchen, much more industrial than the one on the second floor.At the front of the basement there was a good sized one bedroom apartment that was semi furnished.It had it’s own exit.There was also a wide set of stairs down to a further sub level that Mickey was curious to explore but unable to.He presumed the workings for the elevator and the HV/AC and electrical were down there, maybe the storage Ian had talked about.

Svetlana tugged him out of his thoughts.“When do I ever refuse wine?”

“Never.We’re all about the Pinot Grigio tonight.”Ian laughed pulling a wine bottle from the fridge and a bottle opener from a drawer. He winked at Mickey as he said, “I hear it pairs well with the meal.”

The oven dinged and Mickey turned to check on his potatoes.He pulled the rack out and tried to get a toothpick through them.It barely penetrated.It had to go through easy.Not done then.

Svetlana asked, “What do you cook?”

Yevgeny tugged on his pants pocket.“Papa, can we play games?”

Mickey closed the oven door and reset the timer for another 10 minutes.“When I’m done cooking, Yev, sure.”

“Cool!”Yevgeny agreed, looking impatient. “Are you done yet?”

Ian tried to rescue him so he could finish cooking.He still had the chicken to cook and the asparagus to put in the oven.“I’ll play with you if you want until your papa’s ready.”

“Nah, I’ll wait for Papa.”Yevgeny declined, then his eyes lit up and he went running for the backpack he had dropped by the stairs when he came in.Over his shoulder he announced,“I brought my new marker pens.You wanna color with me, Ian?”

Mickey watched as his son and his...whatever, made their way to the table.Svetlana was still beside Mickey looking ready to help if he asked.All the prep work was done though so really there was just the cooking left to do.“I’m making lemon and herb marinated chicken with au gratin potatoes and roasted asparagus.”

Svetlana quirked a brow and Mickey knew she thought he was being overly ambitious, but all she said was, “Smells good.”

“Hope it turns out okay.” Mickey responded.It was time to get the chicken started.“Can you get me the bowl of chicken from the fridge?”

She did and then resumed her place on one of the kitchen stools.She seemed content to watch him work, sipping her wine as he pulled out pans from the drawer under the gas cooktop.“How is hip?”

“Better.”Mickey replied, lighting several burners and putting some grape seed oil in each pan.

She glanced down at the brace distorting the shape of his drawstring pants.“How is knee?”

“Fucked, but the brace is helping.”Without it, his knee felt like it would give way if he put weight on it.He and Dr. Gonzalez had had another discussion about it at his last appointment.Surgery would be needed to repair it.

She regarded him for a long moment and then moved to take a place beside him in front of the six burner stove.Apparently she was going to help him sear the chicken.“Perhaps you push back Disney World, yes?”

“Yeah, maybe.I haven’t booked it yet.”He had started getting the medical bills and they were bad, but not as bad as he thought they would be.Having medical insurance was pretty damn amazing.By some miracle, he could still afford the Disney trip.Dr. Gonzalez had suggested he should put it off but if he insisted as long as he wore the brace it might be okay. Mickey was still thinking about it because he really didn’t want to disappoint his son.

Svetlana seemed to read his mind.“You do not disappoint him if it is not February.Time is still something he learns.”

“That’s good to know.” Mickey would probably put it off then.He dropped the first chicken breast in a pan.

The AI intercom announced the front door opening and a second later Mandy appeared on the landing calling out, “Sup, peeps.”

Yevgeny leaped out of his chair and rushed over to hug her.“Hi Mandy! Me and Ian are coloring.Wanna color with us?”

Mandy hugged him back with a huge smile on her face.“Let me put my stuff down and, yeah, I’ll color with you.” 

“We drink Pinot Grigio tonight.”Svetlana called as she put the last two chicken breasts in a pan.

“And?” Mandy asked as if somehow she would be deterred based on the wine selection.“Where’s my glass?”

Svetlana poured the other woman a glass and watched as Mandy joined Ian and Yevgeny at the table.“It is good, this.”

Mickey glanced over at the scene.Yevgeny was animatedly telling the adults about his latest favorite thing which was dinosaurs.Apparently he was drawing a velociraptor.It would end up on the fridge, Mickey was sure, judging by the sappy look on Ian’s face.“Guess so.”

“Things are better with orange boy.”Svetlana stated as Mickey flipped the chicken in his pan to sear the other side.

“Getting there.”Mickey agreed, thinking of the fight they had earlier and how quickly they had been able to resolve it.That was definitely better, even if there still was a long way to go.

A rare smile blossomed on her face.“This is good.”

She flipped her chicken at the same time Mickey dropped butter in his pan to start basting.She followed his lead and did the same.Five minutes later, Mickey put his pan in the lower oven and took Svetlana’s from her so it could join his.

He checked the potatoes, judged them done and took them out of the top oven. He asked, “How’d it go with the centurion?Ian told me.”

She did not seem surprised.“For now is okay, but I am thinking lately for what do I need a man?I have green card and work on my citizen papers.I have son.I have good job.I have money.What do I need man for?”

“Dick.” 

She snorted.“BOB makes dick unnecessary.”

Okay she had him there.He’d had one of those back in the days before he and Ian fucked and again when Ian went missing.He had cruised a couple times for other partners, but when it came down to it, he didn’t want anyone else to fuck him.He topped and he pleasured himself with toys when Ian wasn’t around.“Maybe you need a girlfriend.”

She looked thoughtful.“I am thinking perhaps I do not need either.”

Mickey pulled the pan of asparagus, cherry tomatoes and crushed garlic out of the fridge.“Maybe you just want someone to hang out with.”

“I have son.”She shrugged as Mickey put he pan of veggies into the top oven.

This was true, but it would not last forever.“Who will grow up someday and leave us.”

“I have family.” She held her arms out and encompassed the table of people sitting under the window playfully arguing over marker pens. 

Mickey’s eyes followed her gesture.The last time they had talked about this group Mickey had balked at Ian being a part of it, but this time it was just the way it was.There was nothing he could do about it.“Yeah, you do have that.”

She opened a few cabinets and found the plates.“I join PTA at school and meet other moms.I do not hate them.This is good.”

“Yeah, that’s good, Svet.I’m glad you’re happy.Fuck knows you deserve it.”She had been through a lot.Mickey was jealous of her fortitude.She had been sold as a child for $300 to a life of prostitution and trafficked to the US.Hell, even Mickey had pimped her out.After all that, here she was, whole, healthy, independent and in possession of everything she had ever wanted.

Mickey had never apologized for what he had done to her, always figuring somehow what she had done to him made them even, but now he knew better.A sex act that was against both their wills and a sham of a marriage that resulted in something wonderful were nothing compared to a lifetime of usury and objectification.

“Do not trouble yourself, idiot ex-husband.”Svetlana said softly, reading his mind.“The past is past.We look forward now.”

***

“Damn, that was good.”Ian groaned, pushing back from the table and rubbing his belly.“Mickey, if you can cook like that, we’re not ordering in anymore.”

“I still can’t believe you learned to cook like this.”Mandy agreed.

“I watched a YouTube video and followed the fucking directions.It’s not rocket science.”Mickey shrugged off their complements.He had watched that video at least 10 times to memorize it so he wouldn’t look like an idiot in front of his family.

Mandy laughed.“Obviously, if your dumb ass can do it.”

“That’s not nice, Aunt Mandy.”Yevgeny scolded with a frown.“You shouldn’t call people dumb.”

Ian immediately agreed.“You’re right, Yev.Your papa is a great cook.”

“My papa is the man!”Yevgeny smiled proudly at Mickey who found himself blushing under the praise. 

“Thanks, buddy.”He muttered, feeling the weight of such childish faith settle into his chest.He had never been the man his son thought he was, but he was trying.

Svetlana swallowed the rest of her wine.“We go home soon, Yevgeny.You help with dishes, yes?”

“Yes, Mama.”The boy nodded and got up from his seat.“Come on, Mandy.”

“Me?” 

Yevgeny put his tiny fists on his hips and explained.“Papa cooked.Ian bought the food. Mama brought dessert.You and me get to clean.”

“Yeah, we _get_ to.”Mandy rolled her eyes over Yev’s head but she still got up and began to clear the table.

“So I have something I need to tell you guys about Thanksgiving.”Ian said looking mildly nervous.

“You going back to Chicago?”Mickey asked.He had not thought at all about the impending holidays.They had never really celebrated any of them at the Milkovich house.There was fuck all to the thankful for and no money for presents.Besides, Terry thought the holidays were the best times for runs since police coverage was at it’s lowest.They worked their asses off during the holidays.

“No, I’m flying my family in for the weekend.”

“All of them?”Mandy asked from the kitchen.She sounded eager but looked worried.How she could still be hung up on Lip Gallagher after all this time was beyond Mickey’s ability to understand, but then again he was still hung up on Ian.At least Ian had some redeeming features.Lip was turning into a drunk just like his father.

“Lip can’t make it but Fiona, Carl and Liam are coming.Debbie is still trying to get off work.They come in early Thursday and leave Saturday late afternoon.”Ian answered, meeting Mickey’s gaze.He seemed to be thinking the same thing about his older brother.

“No Frank.”Mickey stated. 

“Fu...” Ian caught himself and glanced toward the kitchen to make sure Yevgeny had not heard him.“No.No Frank.”

“I still can’t believe the shit he pulled.”Mandy muttered loud enough for Mickey to hear and to earn another scolding from Yevgeny.There was something in the way she said it that concerned Mickey.He glanced at Ian and noticed the chin had come up and there was an angry set to his jaw. 

“What’d he do?”Mickey asked, very aware he was the only one who didn’t know what had gone on.Five and a half years on the inside meant he had missed out on tons of stuff.He hated being reminded of it.

“Frank, he tries to sell stories about our carrot.”Svetlana snarled, upper lip curled, icy blue eyes deadly.

“What?”Mickey asked, confused.

Ian took up the tale looking no less furious than the Russian.“Yeah, when I wouldn’t just give him money he tried to blackmail me by threatening to tell the world about all the shit I did before getting medicated.”

“That’s fucked up.”Mickey breathed.It was a new low, even for Frank, though not at all surprising.Ian made good and Frank, of course, must have felt like he somehow deserved a piece of the pie.He wasn’t even Ian’s biological father, for fuck’s sake.

“He underestimated Ian though.”Mandy said.

Mickey stared at Ian hoping the reason Frank was not here was because the bastard had finally met an appropriate end.“What did you do?”

“I strung him along while I got myself booked on _Ellen_.Dr. Brynner went with me and I aired all my dirty laundry.There was nothing left to blackmail me with by the time I was done.”

“Seriously?”Mickey could not imagine the level of loathing Ian must have felt for his father to do that to himself.They had TV in prison, but Mickey had tried to avoid any and all mentions of Ian Gallagher.He had missed this event entirely. Then a lightbulb flashed on.This might be why Dr. Mohammed rarely seemed very surprised by the things Mickey told him about Ian.

“Yeah.I mean, I’ve never tried to hide that I’m gay or bipolar.”Ian said sounding calmer now.“I just explained how I got sick and what I put myself and my family through before I finally got help.We talked about the ups and downs of finding the right medications and how once you get them leveled out a normal life is totally possible.We ended up talking about how you never know if the person you’re giving up on might be only one idea away from changing not only their own life but the lives of people all over the world.”

“Wow.”Mickey was going to look for this episode of Ellen as soon as he was alone.He could just imagine Ian sitting on the couch, subdued and vulnerable to start and then defiantly proud by the end.People loved survivor stories especially when the teller was charming, self deprecating and beautiful. 

“I was not going to let that asshole own my narrative.”Ian said and then he chuckled as if something in this situation was actually funny.“Now he’s trying to sue me for defamation of character because I explained some of my early childhood.I was super careful about it though.Every story I told has a DCFS or police report to back it up because I knew he’d try to pull this shit.”

Sometimes Mickey thought Frank was as bad as Terry, just in a different way.Terry was up front, double fisted brutality.Frank was poison, seeping into your blood to rot you from theinside.It enraged him, but it was an impotent anger.No point in it.Instead he changed the subject.“So, the Gallaghers will be here Thanksgiving.”

“I’m not going back to Chicago until I see irrefutable proof Frank is dead.”Ian growled, then he shook it off and with a determined smile announced, “So the holidays are officially moved to New York.”

Mickey nodded.Now they had a move out date.“We’ll clear out then.”

“Why?There’s plenty of room.”Ian looked genuinely confused.

Mandy kicked Mickey hard under the table at the same time Svetlana pinched his arm.“Ow!What the fuck?I just thought you’d want to be with your family.”

Ian smiled indulgently, like Mickey was a five year old.“They’re the family I was born with, Mickey, but this is the family I choose.There’s not much to be thankful for without all of us together.”


	18. Ellen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Super short little chapter about the Ellen episode...next up Thanksgiving. :)

The _Ellen_ episode was something Mickey would never forget.It was fucking bizarre to see Ian on television at all, let alone on a talk show where he intended to humiliate himself first before someone else could do it for him.

Per usual Ian looked fantastic, but the hunch in his shoulders and the way his eyes skittered around the studio made it clear to Mickey he was nervous as hell. His gaze traveled around the room and over the audience as they clapped, but it was clear he was not really seeing anyone other than someone sitting in the front row directly in his line of sight.Mickey presumed that was Dr. Brynner.

Ellen, Mickey thought, looked pissed and she handled Ian with kid gloves walking him through his reasons for talking - someone who would not be named had threatened him with the press.Ian decided to take control of his life story and tell it himself.

He gave some details of his childhood, how many siblings he had, his mother’s battle with mental illness and addiction and it’s impact on the family.Fiona had basically raised five kids by herself from the time she was six.He talked about some of the scams they had run to keep a roof over their heads and food in their bellies.He revealed how he developed a relationship with a much older man at his first job, how he then fell in with an even older, wealthy man who bought him things Ian sometimes sold to help put food on the table.

He spoke of his dreams of West Point and how hard he had worked toward that goal only to fail to reach it.He explained how his bipolar disorder started to emerge around the time his first love had impregnated and married a woman.He admitted this woman was Svetlana his second in command at Claymore.Obviously they had made up.This got a laugh.

He explained how his life had started to go off the rails and how he tried to right it by enlisting illegally in the Army at 17.He had his first major manic episode at bootcamp during which he tried to steal a helicopter and went AWOL. 

Unwilling to face his family or the future he had ruined, he lost himself. He started dancing in gay clubs to support himself.Living in squats, doing drugs, drinking, having random and risky sex sometimes for cash - he outed it all.

His voice got stronger as he went along, the in studio audience hanging on his every word just like Mickey was as he watched.He started looking at people, assessing their reactions and apparently okay with what he saw.His body language opened and he grew more comfortable now that the ugly part was past.

Ellen was awesome throughout it all.At first Mickey had questioned why of all the talking heads Ian had chosen her, but now he could see why.She was a member of the tribe, sure, but she had the wit and humor to make what could be very dark and very sad something uplifting and hopeful.

They continued talking about his recovery, the foundations of Claymore, and what it meant for him.

Ian was able to conclude the interview reviewing Claymore’s hiring practices and how they mirrored the experiences of its founders.They were all people operating on second and third chances.They hired people who needed second chances and in many cases first chances having been overlooked due to sexual orientation, mental or physical handicaps, criminal history or appearance.He talked about their booming growth, minuscule turn over rate and unique creative vision.He asked people struggling with mental illness to get help and their families to hang in there.

It was a masterful performance, start to finish, and it left Frank and those like him with nowhere to go.Frank could out Kash, but for what?No one knew where the man had buggered off to.If he knew about Ned Frank could try to blackmail him, but Mickey was pretty sure Frank did not know and Ian had been very vague.Frank could out Mickey as the love interest, but what purpose would that serve?The way Ian had framed it, outing Mickey would only strengthen the narrative he had created. In fact, it would lend a fairy tale quality to the story if they got back together someday. 

Maybe some petty people would try to go after Ian for some little details of the crimes and misdemeanors he had admitted to but Ian had framed those in deep, unsupported childhood poverty and mental illness.Good luck there.

Mickey also figured anyone trying to squeeze money out of Ian was now on notice about the lengths to which he would go.He would not be intimidated.Forget the money and the fancy lawyers and mountains of paperwork he could bury them under.It was the same relentlessness with which Ian approached almost everything in his life. 

It occurred to Mickey that, while fragile in some areas, Ian might be the strongest person he knew.

There was a brief knock on the door and then Ian’s red head poked in.“Hey, just wanted to make sure you’re good before I head to bed.”

“That so, fire crotch?”Mickey asked, arching an eyebrow.“Looks to me like you got something on your mind.”

“Did you watch it?”Ian asked, his expression a mix of nerves and defiance.

“Fuck yes I did, man.”Mickey said, as if watching it had ever been anything other than a foregone conclusion.Ian just stood in the doorway looking uncomfortable.

Like Mickey had any room to judge.He motioned for Ian to come in.Ian sat on the edge of Mickey’s bed.

This new normal they were creating was sometimes very strange.Before they would have been clutched together in the bed letting their bodies do the talking, but now they were forced to find words to express what they felt.Dr. Mohammed said this was healthy.Mickey missed the old way.

“Can you believe he made me do that?”Ian asked Mickey without looking up from his lap.

That was one way of looking at it, but, “Yeah, right.Frank didn’t make you do shit.You could have just paid him off.Most people would have.”

“No way was I gonna let him get over on me like that.No fucking way.”

“So pop a cap in him.”Mickey said, as Ian grabbed his hand and squeezed. Frank was a thorn in the side of anyone with the misfortune to know him, but he had always been especially cruel to Ian.Mickey could only imagine what Frank had said to him to make Ian angry enough to confess all on national television rather than give Frank a nickel.Mickey squeezed back and asked, “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Ian nodded, though he did not seem okay.He relaxed his grip on Mickey’s hand and finally looked at him, hound dog expression meant to guilt Mickey into something, though Mickey had no idea what.“Just, you’re going to stay for Thanksgiving, right?You didn’t say.”

Seriously?Ian had recently started dropping hints about Mickey moving in.He made comments about how far away Brooklyn was and how empty the house would be when Mickey and Mandy left.He even stooped so low as to wonder if being alone again might trigger a depression. 

It was the start of the slow drip designed to wear away Mickey’s resistance to doing what Ian wanted.Mickey sighed.Leaving wasn’t an option right now anyway.He still couldn’t climb stairs.

“Your family gonna be cool about me being here?I did try to kill your sister.”Mickey had to ask.The conviction may have been overturned on a host of technicalities, but the fact of the matter remained he had helped drug Sammi and leave her for dead.

Ian smiled like he was indulging a stupid question.“Not my sister and you kept Debbie out of it.Besides, every single one of us hates that bitch.The only regret we have is that you weren’t successful.She’s just another Frank cockroach.”

Mickey snorted, pride as a Southsider insulted by the mere idea he might have snitched on Debbie. 

Snitching was an unforgivable sin, one Sammi had indulged in at least twice. 

At the same time Mickey went to prison, Sammi had been sent up on a 15 year minimum for his attempted murder, assault on a police officer, illegal firearms possession and possession of a controlled substance. 

With any luck she would die in prison.

“So you’ll stay, right?”Ian asked again.

The fact was Mickey planned to go back to Brooklyn, but not until the doctors said it was safe.“I won’t be cleared for stairs until late December.”

“Cool.”Ian gave him the smile Mickey associated with triumph then Ian leaned over and kissed him.It was nothing more than a pressing of lips, but somehow it felt like more than that.Mickey would have lingered over it, perhaps deepened it, but Ian pulled back and stood up. “I’m heading for bed then.Sleep tight.”

Mickey licked his lips.The kiss had been too brief to taste Ian, which disappointed him. He wondered if perhaps he could make it through a make out session without freaking out.His groin was certainly willing to entertain the idea.Impulsively he called, “Hey, Ian?”

“Yeah?”Ian turned around, backlit by the light in the hallway, red hair flaming around his face like a halo.

Ian was fucking beautiful, inside and out.“I’m proud of you.”

That had been a very weird thing to say, Mickey thought, but Ian beamed him a megawatt smile before he ducked out of the room.


	19. A Gallagher Thanksgiving: Will There Be Blood?

Deciding because he had made a handful of meals successfully that he could make the bulk of Thanksgiving had probably been a really, really bad idea.

Mickey was bored as hell though and filling a lot of his free time with cooking.Turned out he was pretty good at it.They had had another family dinner over the weekend where he made a pot roast and Amish bread.Yevgeny loved the bread.Mickey loved watching people enjoy something he made.

So, when they started talking about Thanksgiving again, a bored and over confident Mickey decided to take on the task.Svetlana, who thought he was crazy, managed to convince him to let her work on some of the sides.She was making yams and mashed potatoes as well as a dessert, but that left Mickey with the turkey, stuffing, green beans, cranberry relish, bread and salad. 

Fiona had been planning to cook according to Ian, but since Mickey volunteered Ian relegated her to sous chef.Debbie, he was told, would be the dessert maker which was fine by Mickey.Debbie said she was a great baker and other than the Amish bread, Mickey had baked exactly nothing.

The kitchen counters and table were covered with food that needed prepping.Mandy had offered to help and he had her snapping the ends off green beans, something he felt she could not screw up after he showed her how to do it.

They were alone in the house.Ian was picking up his family from LaGuardia.Svetlana and Yevgeny were not due until mid afternoon. 

Looking around, Mickey again felt a little like a housewife.He was even wearing a fucking apron that said ‘kiss the cook’ on the front.Ian had kissed him when he gave it to him and treated it like a license to kiss him whenever Mickey was wearing it.They were small kisses, little more than pecks really, but Mickey liked the way they made butterflies stir in his belly.There was no nausea anymore.It was good.

“You okay over there?”Mandy asked from the table. 

“Yeah, just trying to figure out the timing on all of this.The turkey has to go in the oven in the next 30 minutes to be done on time.”He needed to send someone down to the catering kitchen to get it soon.“Also working on the logistics. I guess if we have to we could use the kitchen downstairs.”

“In the basement?”Mandy asked.

“Yeah, but I think if I can keep to my timeline we’ll be okay up here.”He had a list posted to the refrigerator telling him when things had to be started, in the oven and taken out to make sure dinner happened at six o’clock as planned.

Mandy cocked her head at him.“You are insane, you do know that, right?”

Mickey agreed.“No shit.I’m feeding a fucking army. The fuck was I thinking?”

“Self imposed problems, dick breath.”She said as she snapped the end off another bean.The bowl of snapped beans was only about half full and she was a little more than halfway through the first sack of beans with a second sack full of beans to go. “Do we really need all of these?”

“Have you seen Gallaghers eat?Yes, we need all of them.”Mickey said with an eye roll.He had portioned it out for 10 people plus leftovers, because Ian insisted left over Thanksgiving the next day was the best.It would probably be easier and faster to just do the beans himself. 

If she thought he was trying to get rid of her though Mandy would only work slower and be more annoying so he had to be strategic.Thus he came up with the fastest way he knew of to get rid of his sister.“Too bad Lip’s not coming, huh?”

She snapped the next bean with more force that the ones preceding it, but she didn’t seem agitated enough to leave.Mandy shrugged.“Whatever.From what I hear he’s a fucking drunk doing a real good Frank impersonation lately.”

“Yeah.Ian got the bipolar gene and Lip got the drunk gene.”Ian had pulled himself together and was trying to help Lip do the same.He had agreed to build a state of the art robotics lab for the university in return for taking Lip back after all the shit he had pulled during his first stab at higher education.Ian was also footing the bill for Lip’s tuition, room and board. 

Lip had apparently not taken well to his come down from golden boy to college failure and Ian’s rise from the psych ward to the board room had only exacerbated the issues between the brothers. 

“If we’re all cursed to become our parents, we’re screwed.”Mickey mused.

“I think our brothers took care of that for us.”Mandy nodded and snapped another green bean.“I just don’t get how someone so smart can be so stupid.”

Mickey had a theory on that.“Lip had it easy coming up.Everyone thought he was a fucking genius and told him from the crib he was gonna get out and be a huge success, but he didn’t even get himself into college.You did that.Once he got there he realized he wasn’t the only smart guy in the room.For the first time in his life, he had to compete.”

“Maybe.”Mandy muttered thoughtfully.

“Imagine going from being the biggest cock on the walk to struggling just to be average.”Big fish in small ponds, Mickey thought.Lip was not equipped for the lake.“Guess his ego couldn’t hack it.”

Mandy looked sad, but Lip Gallagher was an asshole who wasn’t worth her time.She had out done herself trying to help Lip live up to his potential.The arrogant fucker had treated her like trash. 

“He looked down on the rest of us like he was something special, but who’s the fuck up now?” Mickey asked rhetorically.He had never liked Lip.The guy was a condescending prick who failed at life and then nailed himself to a cross in self pity. 

Mandy though, she was doing far better than anyone expected of her.“You’re literally killing it, Mands.You are...I mean...I’m... I’m proud of you.”

“Really?”She asked, looking at him like he had grown a second head. 

Had he never said that before?“Yeah, bitch, really.”

Her smile was tentative, like she expected him to take it back, but when he didn’t it grew and her blue eyes lit up happily.Seeing her like that made Mickey want to compliment her more even if the mere thought made him feel weird. 

As he tried to figure out what that feeling was, Mildred, the AI security/intercom/smart house thing, announced, “Ian has returned with five people.”

The pounding up the stairs made it sound like a Mongolian horde was about to ascend upon them. 

Mickey nervously (why?) straightened his apron and braced himself for an onslaught of people who had the ability to make him feel even trashier than he knew he was.

“Something smells good in here!” Fiona complimented the second she stepped onto the landing with the rest of the Gallagher clan hot on her heels. She made a bee line for him and pulled Mickey into a brief, tight hug.“Ian told me you’re our chef for the evening.”

Mickey shrugged off the uncomfortable touch.He had always felt judged by Fiona, even when she was being nice, like now for example.What she was really saying was she didn’t think he could do it and he should just let her take over.Fuck if he would though.Forcing a small smile, he demurred, “We’ll see how it goes.Never made any of this shit before.”

“Hi, Mickey.”Debbie said, eyeing him nervously.

“Hey, Debs.”Mickey returned the greeting, acutely aware there were tears lurking close to the surface in those dark brown eyes.

“Mickey, I’m so sor...”

“Don’t.”Mickey cut her off, not wanting to talk about prison. 

She shook her head and just like every other Gallagher Mickey knew, she continued in spite of his protest.“I should have told them it was me.I mean, I was a kid, no priors.Maybe they would have sent me to juvy for a few months, but...I should have told them.”

He shrugged, dismissing her apology.“Wouldn’t have helped.They weren’t gonna trade locking up a Milkovich for a little girl.I was going down with or without you.” 

“But...”

“Seriously.It’s not like I wasn’t actually planning to kill the bitch anyway.Quit worrying about it.”She could not have prevented his incarceration.All she could have done was fuck her own life up, too.

Mickey moved around the counter and juggled his crutches so he could put an arm over her shoulders in an effort to shut her up and prove there were no hard feelings.She returned the one armed hug as the little girl perched on her hip eyed him.“Who’s this?”

“This is my daughter Frannie.”She changed position so Mickey could get a better view of the little ginger who was blatantly staring back at him.

Mickey vaguely remembered Ian telling him he was an uncle now.Frannie was adorable with a thick head of auburn curls and sparkling dark blue eyes.If Mickey was a betting man, which he was, he would lay odds this little girl was a trouble maker.“Well damn if she isn’t cute.How old?”

Debbie seemed to shrug off her trepidation and glowed under the praise.“Four.”

They were the only parents in the room.What a strange thing to share with the girl he had almost regarded as a baby sister.“Yev’s six.He’ll be here with Svet in about an hour.”

“Can’t wait to see him.”Debbie smiled, squeezed his arm and then drifted off to say hello to Mandy.

Ian came up on his right side and kissed Mickey’s cheek.“You okay?”

So far, so good.Mickey nodded and asked, “Where did Carl and Liam go?”

“Exploring.” Fiona responded with a smile.“I hope you locked up all the good stuff.”

Ian rolled his eyes.“Office and wine cellar are on lock down.”

“Smart man.”Fiona said, patting Ian on the back before she turned to Mickey and asked,“So, chef, how can I help?”

Mickey looked at his list on the fridge.He glanced at the clock on the oven.“I’ve got the turkey in brine in the basement kitchen if you want to go get it.Needs to go in the oven soon.”

“Basement kitchen?”Fiona asked with raised eyebrows.

Mickey rolled his eyes.He had thought the same thing when Ian explained the catering kitchen was there so the personal parts of the house could be locked up during parties.“Talk to your brother.I’m not making this shit up.” 

Ian was quick to justify himself.“For parties.”

Like that made it less weird. Fiona clearly agreed, sharing a look with Mickey before she said,“Riiight.Basement kitchen, got it.”

Mickey pulled a sheet tray of toasted bread crumbs out of the oven just as Carl and Liam barreled down the stairs.Carl was the first to speak.“Holy fuck, Ian, this place is even cooler than your penthouse was!”

Ian smiled, looking proud of himself.“Yeah, I know.”

“Sup, Mickey.”Carl said with a jaw tilt of acknowledgement.Carl was 17, the same age Ian had been when Mickey got locked up, but he looked nothing like Ian had at that age.Carl was still shorter than Mickey by a couple inches and built wiry like Frank rather than tall and lean like Ian. 

Ian had told him all about Carl’s escapades in gang life and subsequent attempt to straighten up out after he developed a man-crush on an ex-girlfriend’s father.He got himself admitted to military school and was planning to go to the police academy after graduation next year.“Hey Carl, what’s this I hear about you wanting to be pig, man?” 

“Says the fucking accountant.”Carl shot back immediately.

Mickey raised an eyebrow as he dumped the toasted bread crumbs into a huge bowl he had stolen from the catering kitchen.“Forensic accountant. Get it right, you little shit.”

Carl watched him pour a bowl of chopped onions in to a hot pan. As Mickey started to stir them, Carl shrugged and said, “Just figure someone’s gotta do it.Might as well be someone who understands the neighborhood.”

“Huh.”Mickey had no love for the police, but he really could not think of a legit job better suited to Carl Gallagher.The boy was a psychopath.Becoming a cop was probably the only way Carl would avoid prison himself.In Mickey’s experience, it wasn’t uncommon for cops to be nothing more than criminals with badges anyway.

“Thinking about law school lately though.”Carl admitted quietly, like he was floating the idea to someone who’s opinion he valued.

Well, that was not a career choice Mickey would have expected from Carl, but then who could have predicted he would become a forensic accountant with a thing for cooking?The world was a very strange place.Mickey mentally shrugged.If Carl wanted to be a lawyer, why the fuck not?“You got the grades for that?”

“Got some ground to make up, but maybe, yeah.”Carl confirmed, looking sheepishly proud as if Mickey’s approval mattered.

“That’s good, Carl, real good.” Mickey was honestly surprised.Carl had never seemed like the sharpest tool in the shed, but then a lack of trying always appeared dumb.Mickey had been the same.It had come as a surprise to him to discover how not dumb he actually was.He imagined Carl probably felt the same way.

“Besides, Ian can just buy my way in like he did for Lip.”

Okay, that was the Carl Mickey knew.

Just then Fiona entered the kitchen with the huge pot of brine and turkey.Mickey had intended to deal with the bird himself, but she took the pot to the sink and pulled the turkey out of the brine.Apparently she was going to clean it which he was happy to let happen since trying to carry a 20 pound turkey on crutches was impossible.Ian had had to help last night when he put it in the brine. 

Mickey turned his attention back to Debbie who was leaning on the counter watching her daughter play with Liam and Ian. 

It seemed all the Gallaghers were coming up in the world.“What about you Debs, what’re you up to lately?”

“I’m a welder.”She said, giving him the female version of Ian’s infamous chin.Mandy quirked an eyebrow.

“Oh yeah?”Ian might have told him.Mickey didn’t remember.

Debbie glared at him.“You got a problem with that?”

“No, just not what I imagined.”Mickey said as Fiona put the turkey in the roasting pan and pushed it towards him.Mickey started rubbing thick gobs of herbed butter up under it’s skin.Of all of the Gallaghers, he would have put his money on Debbie being the one who made it through college and got out of the Southside.

“Not what I imagined either, but then Frannie happened and I needed a good job with a steady pay check.”Debbie answered, apparently more defensive than angry. 

“You like being a welder?”Mandy asked as Fiona looked at Mickey’s list on the fridge. 

As he listened to the girls talk, Mickey pushed cut lemons, halved onions, whole garlic, sprigs of rosemary, sage and thyme into the turkey cavity and capped the ends of the legs with foil.He draped a sheet of foil over the top of the bird and gave Debbie a pointed look.

Debbie came around the counter and helped him by putting the turkey in the top oven.“You like being an accountant?”

“It’s kinda cool figuring out how people cooked the books.”People thought they were clever, but numbers didn’t lie. 

He missed his job, as bizarre as that sounded.Sitting around Ian’s brownstone (he could not call a historic building a McMansion - it just wasn’t right somehow) bored out of his fucking mind had been driving him crazy until it occurred to him his job could be done from home.

With that idea in mind, he had reached out to Tom, his boss, who proved to be a little reluctant about the idea.His chief concern was the physical and cyber security of the data Mickey would be analyzing. 

When Mickey told Ian about the conversation, Ian had leapt on the idea and had his security guy, Ethan, on the phone with Tom’s security guy, Clive, the very next morning. 

If they could come to an arrangement Tom felt okay with, Mickey would not feel as obligated to wait to have his knee fixed.He could work through the rest of his hip rehab and resume work at least part time after his knee surgery.Then his mobility issues would be behind him, he hoped. 

He wouldn’t know until after Thanksgiving if the idea would fly.

“What else can I do to help?”Fiona asked as she turned from the list and then looked at him like he was some sort of alien. 

Mickey could understand where she was coming from.Six years ago the idea of cooking Thanksgiving dinner never would have even crossed his mind.They had not seen each other since then so her only frame of reference for him was the 19 year old hoodlum whose only future was prison or death.From that perspective, seeing who he had become had to be totally surreal.

Not willing to deal with her incredulity, (since it mirrored his own) Mickey pointed toward a bunch of celery.“That needs chopping.”

“On it, boss.”She gave him the sort of indulgent smile reserved for small children attempting big things and then pulled a chef’s knife out of the block and got to work.

“Did you get the stuff to make the pies?”Debbie asked.She had texted Ian a list that Ian had passed along to Mickey.

“Sure did.Everything you asked for.The bottom oven is all yours but I need it back by four if we’re having dinner at six.”Mickey informed her as he stirred the onions. They were almost done.

“So I have like an hour before I have to start.”

“Yeah.”

“Cool.”Debbie responded.Mandy asked her something Mickey couldn’t hear and while they started talking again his attention drifted back to his cooking.The onions were transparent and browned around the edges.He pulled them off the heat and tossed most of them onto the bowl with the bread crumbs, reserving some for the gravy he would eventually make. 

Then he got to work on the sausage in the same pan as the onions.Fucking God bless YouTube.

As the sausage browned, he looked around the room.Ian was helping Carl and Liam set up a game on the TV. 

Even Fiona seemed to have settled in, mincing some fresh herbs for the stuffing per Mickey’s printed off instructions from Pinterest.It felt weirdly homey which made worry spark in Mickey’s belly.It was too perfect.Nothing in his life had ever been this perfect.He tried to push that thought away.Maybe now he could have a few Norman Rockwell moments that didn’t end with his life burning down around his ears.

The worry did not dissipate. 

It settled into a hard ball in his stomach that made him wonder if he should take one of the sublingual Ativan tabs.The stuff made him loopy and tired though and he wanted his wits about him when dealing with Fiona.She was as bad as Ian about turning an inch into a mile when she wanted something.

Trying to control the moment, Mickey decided to ask Fiona about her new life. “Ian tells me you’re a slumlord now.”

“That’s Ms. Slumlord to you.” She said with a smirk.“I bought an apartment building.I’ve also been working as a procurer for this guy I know with deep pockets.”

“So that would be Mr. Slumlord over there, huh?”Mickey thrust his chin in Ian’s direction who was deeply engrossed in whatever game he was playing with Carl and Liam.

As Mickey finished up the sausage and pulled the pan from the fire she said, “Nah.Ian’s only interested in properties with some history to them.He likes to buy and have them restored.Some he’s sold.Some he’s turned into shelters for homeless gay youth in Chicago.”

“With that trans guy he used to date.”Mickey attempted to be casual about it, but he hated the idea of Ian being with anyone else even if it was in the past.

“Yeah, with that one.”She confirmed, watching him from the corner of her eye.

“Huh.” 

“No need to be jealous.” Fiona said, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. “Trevor got married a couple years ago.He’s a good guy and the work he’s doing with those kids is awesome.” 

Mickey handed her the pan of cooked sausage which she dumped into the bread crumbs.

“Whatever.”Mickey replied, trying to appear unaffected.Ian had told him several times how he had tried and failed to move on.Trevor was one of those attempts.It bothered Mickey they remained friends and business partners, though the work they were doing together made expressing his jealousy a serious dick move.First, he had no claim to Ian’s loyalty and second, who could protest helping at risk kids? 

Mickey found a bag of organic dried cranberries and handed it to Fiona.

“How’s your hip doing?”She asked as she stirred the cranberries into the breadcrumb mixture.

“Much better.If it weren’t for my fucking knee giving out on me I probably wouldn’t need the crutches anymore.”Which was why he needed to do something about his knee.Dr. Gonzalez was pushing him to do it right before Christmas since he’d already met his max out of pocket for the year.Mickey had had to call the insurance people to find out what that meant and what it meant was if he could do the surgery before the year was out insurance would cover it 100 percent.

That was great and all, but if it cost him his job, it wasn’t worth it.Being out for another eight weeks would mean he would spend nearly as much time on disability as he had working.It didn’t feel right to fuck over the guy who gave him a chance at a new life so unless he could find a way to work from home while he recuperated he would wait on the knee.He could live with the brace and a cane if he had to.

“That’s good.”She said with a smile.She always smiled.It was her mask.

Mickey didn’t have any more to say about his injuries and apparently she didn’t have any more questions so they slipped into silence again as Mickey got started on cooking down some fresh cranberries in sugar and orange juice. 

Once she got the stuffing mixed, Fiona turned to him.He could see her in his peripheral vision and knew what she was about to say.“Mickey, I...”

“Don’t.”He cut her off.Sammi Slott was a vindictive thunder cunt brought into their lives by Frank.Really, nothing else needed to be said about her.

Gallaghers were very persistent, though.“But...”

Mickey cut her off.“Seriously, your sister is one crazy bitch, that’s all I can say.”

“Still, thanks for keeping Debbie out of it.”Fiona finally got the words out.

“You thought I’d rat?”

“No, no, just thank you and I’m sorry about what happened to you.”

“What happened to me?”Oh, he would murder Ian if he had talked.

“Prison?”Fiona asked, looking at him with concern. 

“Oh.Don’t worry about it.”He was not going to be drawn into a conversation about how that bitch Sammi had ruined his life or about his time in prison.Not now, not with Fiona.Not ever.

He turned his attention back to cooking.All that was left for her to finish the stuffing was the broth.“There’s a pitcher of turkey stock I made yesterday in the fridge.Just hold back two cups for the gravy, okay?”

“Yes, chef.”Fiona saluted, apparently happy to let the subject of Sammi Slott drop.

***

“Hey, Ian.Hiding out?”Fiona appeared in the office doorway.

“Nah, just trying to stay out of the way.”Ian said, clicking the save button on his iMac and switching it off.He should not be working today anyway.He had just needed a break from all the talking and fake politeness.He wondered if that was coming to an end now since Fiona looked pretty determined.

Fiona sat in one of his teal velvet smoking chairs and rubbed the arms with her hands for a second before she smiled and with a bemused shake of the head said, “Mickey’s on a serious tear down there.Who knew he was so domestic?”

“I know, right?”Ian was still amazed that Mickey Milkovich liked to cook.While he would never agree time had completely changed them, he did think time had given them the opportunity to become who they really were inside.It was heart warming to watch the Mickey Ian had always suspected lurked in there come out into the light of day.The guy was a hard shell around a gooey center.“He’s gotten really picky about eating fresh food so he’s had to learn to cook.I think he secretly enjoys it.”

“Some secret.”Fiona snorted.

Ian had to laugh with her.Mickey was really taking his new cooking hobby seriously. “Yeah.He’s good at it though.”

Fiona shrugged, noncommittal.Ian knew that even now, with everything Mickey had been through and accomplished, his older sister still thought Ian could do better, but rather than say so she changed the subject.“How are you doing?”

Anxiety started to bubble in Ian’s stomach.He knew where this was headed and tried to avoid it.“Good, really good.Working on a new game concept I’m excited about and, well, Mickey’s here, so lots of good things going on right now.”

Fiona leaned forward and fixed him with an intense stare.“You taking your meds?”

“Fuck, Fi.” He absolutely hated that six years and a billion dollar company later, she still asked that.He didn’t ask her if she was still leaving coke lying around the house.He knew she learned her lesson.It killed him she still did not trust him.“Do I look unmedicated to you?”

“No, you look really good, but I have to ask.”

“No, you don’t.”Ian ground out. 

She arched an eyebrow at him, clearly disagreeing.

If she were anyone else, Ian was pretty sure he would have cut her out of his life already.Now that he owned his own destiny, Ian did not tolerate the company of people who traded in put downs, distrust or negativity.He wanted to leave the past behind, find joy in the now and maintain hope for the future.Frowning, he took a deep breath and tried to push past his disappointment in his sister’s lingering distrust.He looked at her hard and asked, “How’re you doing?”

“Good, good.”She nodded, wearing her signature it’s-not-great-but-I’ll-get-through-it fake smile.Whatever she was unhappy about, she was not going to tell her ‘fragile’ little brother about it.“Found another building I’m thinking about buying and I’ve got a couple properties I want to send to you, see if you’re interested.”

Ian knew from long experience Fiona was virtually unconfrontable.She was very good at dodging and weaving her way around direct discussion of her own problems.She preferred to focus on everyone else’s.Rather than start a fight on the first night, Ian just agreed to look at whatever buildings she had uncovered for him.“Sure.Send them to me.”

“Things with Mickey okay?”

Another topic Ian did not want to discuss.He knew Mickey looked like he had been through the wringer.It was right there for anyone who knew him to see.Dr. Brynner had called it a chrysalis stage. He was transitioning away from what he had been into who he wanted to be.It was a process and it would take time.Ian was doing his best to support the effort.“Yeah, still working through some stuff, but we’re getting there.He’s been through a lot.”

“So have you.”She shot back immediately.

Ian’s anxiety immediately turned to anger.“Don’t start, Fi.Either support, shut up or fuck off.Those are the only options where Mickey’s concerned.”

“Easy there, cowboy.I wasn’t trying to start anything.”She held her hands up and gave him a conciliatory smile.“I know you care about him. I just want to make sure you take care of yourself, too.”

“To take care of him, I have to take care of me.”Ian sighed.Conversations with his sister always circled back to his bipolar.Always.God, he was tired of this.As long as he acted normal, the rest of his family treated him normal.They had gotten over it.Why the fuck couldn’t Fiona?

“Good.”

Again Ian tried to change the subject rather than succumb to the fight brewing inside him.“You need anything?”

“Nah, we’re good.Thanks for helping with the house.”

Restoration work had recently been completed on the house on North Wallace.Ian had paid for it, but not seen the house since the work was completed.When he left Chicago for New York he did it with the intention of never setting foot in the city again.Too many bad memories. “I would have torn it down, but, your house.”

“Too many memories in that house.”Fiona said, her sentiments the inverse image of Ian’s.

Ian hated the North Wallace house for many reasons, chief among them was his not-father.“Seen Frank?”

She rolled her eyes.“I swear that man is a cockroach.He cannot be killed or gotten rid of.”

“So you’ve seen him.”Ian said to confirm. 

Fiona had turned down the Mildred system Ian had wanted to install to keep Frank out.Sammi would likely show up at some point too, looking for some sort of compensation.She had already written him several letters threatening harm to his family and to Mickey if he didn’t help her get out of prison like he had helped Mickey.Ian just passed them on to his lawyers and told them to burn her down if she did actually try to come after him or anyone he loved.She was the second reason he had gone on Ellen.

“Unfortunately.”Fiona nodded. “He’s drinking again, surprise, surprise.”

Speaking of drinking, Ian asked, “How’s Lip?”

“Well, he’s still in school, so thank you for that, but he’s drinking too much again, too.”

“I worry about him.We don’t talk much anymore.”Ian admitted.All his life everyone had expected Lip to be the one who made it.He would rescue their family from poverty and make it possible for his siblings to go to college and have better lives. 

Ian now understood how much pressure that must have been and how burdened by their expectations Lip must have felt.To Ian, Lip had seemed invincible until a string of terrible decisions ruined his chances.Lip’s relationship with the bottle worsened and it had been an up and down battle since then.

Lip had gotten himself back together enough to attend the appeal Dr. Youens got for him withthe board at Chicago Polytechnic.Ian had gone with him as a character witness and argued his case on its merits.When that failed, he offered to build a robotics lab on the condition Lip was reinstated in his preferred robotics major.The university agreed and what Ian had thought of as a win-win, Lip took as an insult.Their relationship, which had been strained since Claymore took off, worsened.They barely spoke anymore.Ian told himself all that mattered was Lip restoring himself to the future he was supposed to have, but it still hurt. 

“He doesn’t even hear it when people tell him he’s acting like Frank.I never realized how similar they were before.”

Ian had. 

Frank was many things, but dumb was not among them.Growing up there had been moments when Ian had thought if Frank were not a useless drunk he would be a lot like Lip.It was sad the reverse was happening.It was still early in Lip’s downward spiral though, and Ian had hope his brother could pull himself out.As long as he didn’t give in to self pity and start blaming everyone else for the problems in his life, there was still a chance.“What can I do?”

Fiona shrugged.“I don’t know.I keep hoping if we can just keep him in school somehow hecan get through this.”

Ian felt the same way.He hoped Lip would wake up and start making better choices.Ian had.“I chose not to be Monica.He can choose not to be Frank.”

“I think in some ways you got it easier.”Fiona said.

What the hell?“How do you figure that?”

“Well, if you consistently take your meds you can live a normal life.Lip will have to avoid something that is literally everywhere he looks for the rest of his life.Which do you think is harder in the long run?”

Reminding himself to do something every single day that made him feel foggy and lethargic (in comparison to how great mania felt before the paranoia set in), would have long term consequences for his health due to side effects, and could stop working at any moment was not an easy thing to do.

Ian had also liked to drink and do drugs, but he quit.Sometimes avoiding old habits was hard and it did suck, he agreed, but if Ian fell apart he could take Claymore down with him. 

If Lip never got his shit together the only person he hurt was himself.There really was no comparison in Ian’s opinion.Not wanting to argue though, he kept his opinion to himself.

Fiona seemed to realize Ian was not going to agree with her so she continued with, “If he’s on the wagon at Christmas, can you make sure all the alcohol is locked up?I saw the bar.”

“There’s another one on the roof, but yeah.I’ll definitely lock it all up if he’s on the wagon.If he’s not I’m leaving it out.I’d rather have him passing out in his own puke here than an alley somewhere.” 

“Agreed.”

“Liam’s doing okay?”

“He misses everyone.”

Staying on North Wallace had been Fiona’s choice.Ian had offered to move them to New York with him or to a better part of Chicago but she had asked instead that he just remodel their old house. 

They had had multiple conversations about reconsidering once the renovations got started, like when the entire foundation had to be redone and again when the plumping needed to be gutted and replaced.Then it had been the electrical, termite damage, water damage, replacing the furnace, the list of necessary repairs had been long and expensive.It would have cost half as much to doze the place and rebuild it, but Fiona and the rest of the family had been too sentimental to do it.

“He’s doing okay in school?”Ian asked.Liam was a sweet kid, but very different from the other Gallaghers.They tended to be a rough and ready group of high strung opportunists who could talk their way into and out of most situations.Liam was calm, easy going, and far smarter than people gave him credit for. 

“Better since those assholes can’t trot him out as their poster child for diversity anymore.”

Getting Liam into private school was one of the few nice things Frank had done for the kid.Ian was absolutely certain there was an ulterior motive behind it, but it had been good for Liam. Liam staying in his school was one of the reasons Fiona had given for not moving. 

The school used to pull Liam from classes to make him visible whenever they needed to prove they supported diversity in their student body.Fiona had been unable to complain because of the scholarship situation.Once Ian took over paying his tuition with the express understanding Liam would no longer be modeling for them, the school now waited for recess to point him out to would be donors and city officials.

When they talked last week, Fiona had told him the school was talking about expelling Liam due to a fist fight he had with another student Liam claimed was bullying him.She had clearly not wanted to tell him much about it.Ian wasn’t sure if it was because she wanted to protect his ‘delicate’ mental health or if she just didn’t want him to step in and help.It was another source of tension between them. Ian took another stab at it.“Did they let him stay in his class?”

“Yeah.Both boys were suspended for a week.He’ll go back to his class after Thanksgiving break.He’s the only black kid and he gets teased.Usually he brushes it off, but he just reached a breaking point.They’re making him go to counseling which he’s tolerating okay.” 

Like the rest of them, Liam had been born with detectable levels of several drugs in his system.Frank had had to put on his good dad act to get custody so Fiona could raise him.The cocaine incident had happened when Liam was barely three and they had all watched the little boy grow worrying it would effect either his mental capacity or self regulation or both.Thankfully, Liam did not seem any the worse for wear for a Gallagher.

“And Debbie?”Like Ian, Debbie could be pretty closed lipped about her life.They texted some, but she was more like an acquaintance than a sister now.

“Just as defiantly independent as ever.She won’t take help even if she needs it.”Fiona shrugged.

“Does she need it?”Ian asked.Like all of them, Debbie had made some really bad decisions, but rather than feel sorry for herself like Lip, or martyr herself like Fiona, Debbie just got it done.

She always did it the hard way though because she would not ask for or accept help most of the time.

“She seems stressed, but she won’t talk to me, so I don’t know what’s going on with her.”

“Man problems?”Ian asked.

“Maybe.She doesn’t talk to me.”

“Why won’t she just let me help her?I’d pay for college.”He had asked before, but Debbie always got mad at him like he was somehow insulting the life she had created.It was frustrating.

“If I knew I’d tell you.She wants to make her own way.”

All of the women in Ian’s life were fiercely independent so this was nothing new.“Yeah, Mandy too, but she chose to go to college rather than have a baby at 15 and refuse free school.” 

Fiona quirked a disapproving eyebrow.“You pay for Mandy?”

“I owe her, so yeah, I pay for her school.”Without Mandy’s constant support, he never would have built this life.Whatever she needed he would do and anyone who disagreed with that could fuck right off.“She won’t let me pay for anything else though. Independent.”

“Maybe get Mandy to talk to Debbie then.”Fiona suggested with a frown.

***

“Mickey, you should have a restaurant.”Fiona complimented as she flopped down on the couch next to him.Everyone else was in the kitchen cleaning up.Svetlana was directing traffic and had thrown Mickey out early reasoning he had masterminded the meal and cooked most of it.Fiona was excused from clean up because she had been his sous chef. 

“Wasn’t too bad, was it?”Mickey had never had a real thanksgiving meal unless you counted the TV dinner version. 

“Are you kidding?It was fantastic.You have a natural talent as a cook.”Fiona was beaming at him.

Embarrassed to be praised, Mickey shrugged and rubbed a hand down his face to hide his blush.“Just followed the directions.”

“I can follow directions and still not have it turn out half as good as that meal.”She complimented again.Bumping their shoulders together she went on, “You are a rock star in the kitchen.”

Seeing she was not going to give up until he agreed with her, Mickey muttered a soft, “Thanks.”

“I’m serious about the restaurant thing.I’d back you.”

Feeling overwhelmed by the complement and the implied confidence, Mickey shot back, “It was just one meal for fucks sake.”

“Yeah, the hardest meal of the year.You made a juicy turkey.That is damn near impossible.I’ve made at least a dozen turkeys in my life and they were all shit compared to your very first one.”

Finally it clicked.“Got something on your mind, Fiona, or you wanna keep blowing smoke up my ass?”

Caught, she gave him a shameless grin before her face dropped into a serious expression.“How is Ian, really.Is he taking his meds?”

Mickey rolled his eyes.It was as if the intervening six years had never happened.Anyone looking at Ian could tell he was doing great.Why was he doing great?Because he was taking his fucking meds.“Every day.He’s fine.”

“You’re sure?”She asked, searching his face for a lie.

Mickey was a very good liar when he wanted to be, but in this case there was no need.Ian was fine and she was misplacing her fear of Monica onto her brother.It was not fair and to make that point he sent a shot across her bow.“Don’t want the golden goose to stop laying eggs?”

She snapped back like Mickey had slapped her.“I just want him to be happy and healthy.”

“I get that, but you seriously need to lay off him. It’s been what?Six years?He’s founder of a billion dollar company.He’s rich as fuck.How much more stable does he need to be for you to trust him again?” 

“You didn’t see it.”She muttered defensively.

“The fuck I didn’t.I lived it.”Mickey had had a house full of suitcases to prove it.His infant son had been taken for an out of state joyride.It was his bed Ian refused to even roll over in for almost a week. 

She gave Mickey her eyes, expression sad.“It got worse after you were gone.”

“Yeah, and then it got better and it’s been better ever since.Lay off him, Fiona.”Mickey warned.Ian had a long fuse, but when he reached the end of it, the bomb that went off scorched the earth.“You know how he is.Once he’s done, he’s really fucking done.”

That made her pause.Her gaze travelled into the kitchen where Ian was washing dishes while Carl loaded the dishwasher.They were laughing.Her gaze dropped to her lap.“I just worry.”

“Then ask me.”Mickey offered.Monica was dead.Fiona was the closest thing Ian had to a mother.Mickey did not want Ian to lose her.Structure and stability were important for his mental health.Fiona had always personified that for Ian.“You want to know if he’s sleeping or taking his meds or off the rails, ask me.”

“You’re going to be around that long?”She asked, dark eyes boring into him.

“Yeah.” Mickey nodded.He felt ambivalent about it, unsure if he was lying or not.He was still at war with himself about the future, but it was getting easier to imagine.


	20. Kissing

Mickey was wiped out.He had spent all day cooking and the second half of it trying to be social.The Gallaghers did not make it easy.They were the same kind of Southside trash as the Milkoviches, but still thought they had a leg up.Maybe they did if one considered the Milkoviches as a whole, but if you looked at the New York branch of the family, they were doing damn well, thank you very much. 

Fiona was also harboring some sort of beef with Svetlana over the weirdness between her and the Balls.The food had been great, the meal not so much.He was way too tired to deal with people anymore.

Svetlana and Yevgeny had gone home only moments ago and Mickey was making his escape upstairs where a hot shower, warm bed and blissful silence awaited him.

“Hey.”Ian said pushing Mickey onto the landing.Mickey hobble stepped on his crutches trying not to fall under the onslaught.Ian had had two glasses of wine and the meds made him a light weight. 

Without resistance from Mickey, Ian turned them around so Mickey was in the center of the space and Ian had his back to the wall.He draped his arms loosely over Mickey’s shoulders.Though it was obvious what Ian was doing, Mickey still found himself asking, “What’re you doing?”

“I’m doing this.”Ian said as he brought their lips together, once, twice and on the third time his lips parted and his tongue brushed over Mickey’s lips.

Oh dear God, Mickey thought as his mouth involuntarily opened allowing Ian to deepen the kiss. 

He had never kissed anyone before Ian.Some girls had tried, but it grossed him out.When Ian accused him of being afraid, that had really gotten to him.He had wanted to make Ian happy, but Ian was right.He was afraid.He could distance himself from the sex, that was easy, but kissing was something else.Once he did it, though, he wondered why it had taken him so long.He liked kissing Ian.

Even now, after all that had happened, this was good.It was familiar and comfortable, like well worn jeans.He was able to relax into it. 

God, he had missed this. 

Mickey pulled their bodies together.The moment he discovered Ian’s erection the spell broke and he pushed Ian away.

“Sorry.”Ian muttered, adjusting himself to make his erection less obvious. 

“No.”Mickey snarled.

His heart was pounding and his breathing was too fast.It was not quite a panic attack, but it was too close for comfort.He had a small pillbox with the rescue Ativan in his shirt pocket but his hands were shaking so hard he was having a hard time getting the box open.

Ian watched him for a moment before he took the pillbox from him and opened it, dropping one of the tabs into Mickey’s hand.Mickey shoved the tab under his tongue and waited for the slow seeping chemical peace to settle over him.

He glanced at Ian as the taller man put the pillbox back in his pocket, careful to pull the shirt away from Mickey’s skin so he would not touch him.He looked like a kicked puppy.What the fuck was Ian so sorry for?It was not as if any of this was his fault.Mickey held out a shaky hand to Ian.

Ian looked at it for a moment before he took it.Green eyes did not look up to meet Mickey’s searching gaze. 

Mickey was starting to feel better, calmer.It was the placebo effect, just knowing the medicine would start working soon brought a peace of its own.“My fault.Got lost in the moment.”

“Me, too.” Ian muttered, adjusting himself again.“Shouldn’t have had that second glass of wine.I’m sorry, Mickey.”

“Shut the fuck up.”Mickey said, gently slapping Ian upside the head. “This is my problem, not yours.It was cool until...that.”

Mickey gestured at Ian’s crotch.

“So you were fine with the kissing?”Ian asked, finally glancing up to meet Mickey’s gaze.

“Yeah.”Mickey admitted.He had been okay with the kissing, which surprised him now he was thinking about it.He was the one that pulled their bodies together and he was the one who freaked out.“Just got carried away.”

“Huh.”Ian grunted, looking thoughtful.

“Seriously, Ian.You beat yourself up over this and I’ll kick your ass.”Mickey jokingly threatened. 

“I wasn’t beating myself up.I was just thinking how much has changed in the last few weeks.You were avoiding me like the plague and now we’re making out in hallways.”

“God, that sounds pathetic.”Now it was Mickey’s gaze that fell, like kissing was a big deal or something. 

“Nah, I kinda like it.”Ian grinned as he changed the grip of their hands, weaving their fingers together.

“Bullshit.”Mickey fucking hated it.He hated feeling broken and afraid and frustrated.

Ian’s grin turned into a smile.“Really.It’s nice to just be with you.I’m glad we’re talking through things and really getting to know each other this time.Before we just fucked our way around shit.”

“Because before there was nothing either of us could do about shit.” 

“Some of it, sure, but a lot of it we could have talked about.We just didn’t.We fucked instead.” 

“Fine, but you miss the sex.Fuck knows I do.”There had been very little talking back then because it took everything Mickey had just to maintain the dichotomy in which he lived. 

He had known his father would kill him if he ever found out who Mickey really was and that being fucked by Ian had been more than just a one off experiment.He had suppressed it so deeply and for so long he had not known how to let go and be himself rather than what Terry wanted him to be.Any time Ian got too close to his inner reality Mickey distracted him with sex.Back then, it had worked for both of them.

“Yeah, not gonna lie, but this is good, too.” Ian tightened his grip on Mickey’s hand.“It’s like courting.”

“Courting?Are you shitting me?”Like they were going to get married someday and have kids and a white picket fence or some shit.

“Fuck you.It’s romantic.”The chin came up in defiance. 

Mickey did not do romantic.All he knew about the word he had learned from movies and a few books read in prison for his English classes.“What the fuck ever.”

“Come with us when I take the clan back to the airport.We’ll go to dinner on the way back.I still owe you a date, remember?”

“Seriously?”Mickey asked, just to make sure.Their last attempt at a date had been a disaster.Ian probably had some experience with this by now, but it was still a mystery to Mickey.

Ian smiled gently, as if he knew this was new territory for Mickey.Of course he knew.“Name the place and we’ll go.Wherever you want, doesn’t matter.Saturday night.”

Why the idea of going on a date was exciting was beyond Mickey, but it made him happy to contemplate a night out with Ian, no worrying who might see, no judgement, just the two of them out in the open and proud.The butterflies that had taken flight in Mickey’s belly when they kissed resumed their dance. “Fine, but only if you come back here and kiss me again.”

Ian looked surprised and a little nervous.He subconsciously adjusted himself again.Mickey noticed and a seed of doubt took root.He wanted to push past it.“Just keep that beast away from me.”

Ian arched an eyebrow.

“Jesus, just come here, fuck.”Mickey used their joined hands to pull Ian toward him.Their lips met again.Mickey deepened it this time, forcing his tongue into Ian’s mouth.

He had missed this more than he realized.Again one of his hands slipped into Ian’s hair and the other found it’s way onto Ian’s ribs.He did not have much reach with the crutches.Ian’s arms draped over Mickey’s shoulders which was disappointing.To correct it, he said, “Touch me.”

Tentatively, Ian’s arms drew back until he had a light grip on the back of Mickey’s neck and the other hand drifted down his arm.Mickey’s body ignited, blood pumping him painfully erect.He glanced down between them.Ian was just as hard as he was.

Ian leaned his forehead against the top of Mickey’s head.“Jesus. Fuck, Mickey, that was hot.”

“Is it over?”Mickey asked, not understanding the past tense.While Ian was thinking of stopping, Mickey was wondering if the Ativan had kicked in enough for him to try pushing their bodies together again.He felt like just brushing his dick against Ian’s would bust his nut and holy shit did he need that.

“I’ve got about this much self control left,” Ian held his thumb and forefinger a hairs breadth apart.“If this needs to stop, which I think it does, then it has to be now.”

“Fuck.”Mickey groaned.He was so hard it hurt.It had been so long, so, so long.Maybe with the Ativan on board his thoughts would not spiral back to that day.The moment he thought it though, the pleasure started to leach away.Desperate to grab it back he started, “We could try...”

“You just had to take an Ativan because my dick touched you.”Ian brushed a hand over the side of his face, gentle and reassuring, and Mickey hated it. 

Mickey pulled his face away and took a step back until his back was against the opposite wall.Scrunching his eyes closed in frustration he grumbled.“Fuck my fucking life.”

Ian pushed off the wall and smiled.“We just have to give it time, Mickey.” 

Like it was that simple.

***

Mickey woke up in a wet spot.It was as if his dick was mocking him.He’d had a fucking wet dream like a 12 year old, but the damn thing had withered the moment he had started jacking off last night after his make out with Ian.Unwelcome memories had seeped in bringing fear and self loathing with them.It was not fucking fair.

After he cleaned up Mickey stopped on the third floor.He wanted to maybe spend some time alone with Ian before the insanity of the morning took over.Ian did not answer when he knocked and it was only then Mickey realized he was probably out on his run. 

He was about to get back in the elevator to head back up to his room when he heard a muffled voice say, “...he’s so skinny.”

“True.” 

“And where did his tattoos go?Did he have them removed?”That was Debbie’s voice. 

“Must have, Debs.”Fiona replied.

“It’s so weird.He’s an accountant.Mickey Fuck U-Up Milkovich is an _accountant_.How did that even happen?” 

Mickey had studied the first thing that popped into his mind when confronted with selecting a major, that’s how it happened.He liked numbers.They were one of very few things that made him feel smart.He was also good with money.He had thought for a nanosecond about a finance degree, but with a felony that was useless.An accounting degree though, he could make use of that if he ever got out of prison.Even criminals had to keep books. 

“ _And_ he cooks?I mean, I feel like this house is an alternate universe or something.Who _are_ these people?”

“Maybe they’re aliens.”Fiona chuckled.

Even though he wasn’t supposed to, Mickey took a stair.He couldn’t help himself.This was a conversation he wanted to eavesdrop on.

“It makes more sense than this.He only had one beer last night and he drank wine with dinner that he picked out!And he _quit smoking_.Has to be an alien.” 

“What do you think the aliens will want for breakfast?”Fiona asked.

“Green eggs and ham!”A childish voice called out.

“Ah...no.”Fiona answered sounding playful.“How about French toast?”

“With Cool Whip?”It had to be Frannie who was talking.

Debbie added, “With that bread from last night.That stuff was amazing.”

“Mickey made it.”Fiona told them as Mildred announced Ian’s return.

“Seriously?”Debbie asked sounding incredulous like making the turkey and stuffing and gravyand a bunch of other shit paled in comparison to the easy as hell to make Amish bread. “So in this universe he’s a gay housewife.”

That about did it for Mickey.He was caught between going upstairs to catch the elevator and going down another eight steps when he heard Ian say, “I dare you to say that to his face.Find out how Southside he still is.”

Exactly.Mickey continued his way down the stairs one slow step at a time.

“It’s fucking cold out there.”Ian said.

There was a pause then Ian asked,“You guys got plans for Black Friday?”

“Shopping!You wanna come?” Fiona called.

Just as Mickey would have, Ian demurred saying, “My idea of the sixth circle of hell.Want me to call you girls a car?”

“Nah.Svetlana has it covered.She’s sending a car for us in 30 minutes.Can you keep Carl?”

“You’re taking Liam and Frannie with you?”Ian’s voice sounded weird. 

“No.Svetlana’s sitter’s going to watch them.”

“Oh.”It sounded like Ian had been punched in the chest. Mickey was confused as to why.

“Thought you boys could use some alone time.”Fiona sounded defensive.

“Or you could just tell me you don’t want me watching the kids.”Ian ground out and then there was the sound of someone stomping up the stairs and a flash of red and black passed by him.A second later there was a loud slam.

Mickey made it to the second floor landing just as Fiona called out, “Ian...”

“Way to go, Fiona.”Mickey said, voice dripping in snark.

“I didn’t mean it like that.”She turned huge brown eyes on him that might have worked if he did not know her so well.

Mickey crutch walked into the kitchen, his domain, and asked, “Really?How did you mean it then?” 

“Just thought he’d want to spend time with you.”Fiona tried.

“Bullshit.He sees me every day.”Mickey called her out, unable to let such an obvious sidestep pass.“You think he’d hurt those kids?”

She sighed.“No, of course not.I just...”

“Because he’d throw himself in front of a bus for those kids.”Even when he had been manic and stole Yevgeny Ian had kept his son safe.Granted, he had not done the best or most rational job of it, but even in the middle of a psychotic break, no harm had come to his son.Ian cared deeply for the children in his life.

“Mickey...”

“I mean, you’d rather leave them with a total stranger than your own brother.You know what they say.No one can hurt you like fucking family.” She visibly flinched when he said that.Good.Bitch had it coming.Mickey knew better than most how much family could hurt and he was not going to let this condescending bitch make Ian feel bad. 

Debbie was notably silent through the entire exchange reaching into the bread box pushing the regular bread Mickey had bought specifically for French toast out of the way to grab the Amish bread instead. “And don’t you fucking touch my bread for French toast.That’s what the store bought shit’s for.”

Looking like he had slapped her Debbie turned on Fiona.“I told you!We should have just asked them first.”

“I didn’t want to stress him out.He has enough pressure without two kids hanging off him.”Fiona retorted loudly, as if volume could somehow make her right in a situation where she was horribly wrong.

Mickey rolled his eyes.“Because _knowing_ you’d rather trust a total stranger is a lot less stressful.Good job.Way to go, Fiona.”

“You don’t understand.”

“What I understand is that of the two of you, only one of you almost killed one of those kids and it wasn’t Ian.You owe him a fucking apology.”

“Jesus, Mickey.That was a low blow.”

“You kick him over and over again in the teeth for something he has under control.”Mickey did not feel in the smallest way guilty.He’d had enough of this shit. “Look, he’s on his meds.He’s doing good.A little trust would go a long way.”

“I love him.I’m not trying to hurt him.I honestly didn’t want to over burden him.”Fiona tried again.With a small smile she said, “Frannie’s a handful.”

“I’m here, too.”Like the two of them could not watch a couple kids.

She quirked an eyebrow at him.“And you’re on crutches.”

A fair point and one he could not argue.It was not like he wanted to watch two rug rats today anyway.It was the principle of the thing.“Perception is reality and your brother thinks you think he’s like your mother.Look around you, Fiona.He’s _nothing_ like Monica.Stop fucking punishing him for shit your mother did.”

Mickey could have said more, but from the look on Fiona’s face he knew his point had struck home. 

He walked away.

***

“I heard that.”Ian said when Mickey came off the elevator on the third floor.He was sitting on the floor leaning against the wall.

There was no way Mickey could get down on the floor next to him.Instead he leaned on the wall beside to him and put a hand in the redhead’s hair.“Hope Fiona did.”

“I gave her good reason not to trust me.” Ian said, rising to his feet.

“I’m sure you did, but it’s been years, man.She’s gotta let that shit go.”If it had been anything like what was going on right before Mickey was arrested, he knew it was bad.Ian had been completely divorced from reality and it had been scary as hell, but Ian was back to himself now.He had it under control.

“I really fucked up.” 

Mickey hated hearing Ian sound so down on himself.“Yeah.Doesn’t give her the right to keep beating you up with it.Gotta forgive and forget.”

“Like you forgive me?”Ian asked as he stood up and leaned against the wall beside Mickey.

“Walked right into that one didn’t I?”Mickey chuckled darkly.This moment had been coming for a while.It was just another step down the inevitable path toward complete reconciliation or a clean break, not that Mickey thought a break was even possible anymore. He refused to see it as recommitting, because there were still some pretty big obstacles between them, but he could try to let the past go. 

“Yeah.So, do you?Forgive me?”Ian sounded so hopeful.

“Yeah, man.I forgive you.”Mickey replied, pulling the taller man into his arms.Ian melted into him like the strings holding him up had been cut.Mickey was pretty sure he heard a sob, but he ignored it.He didn’t know how to handle tears.Nor had he understood how much forgiveness meant to Ian.It had been some fucked up shit, but what else could be expected from an unmedicated bipolar teenager?He pulled Ian closer to him and rested his face against the taller man’s clavicle while Ian clutched onto his shoulders in a death grip.

Into Mickey’s neck Ian whispered, “I love you.”

“So you keep saying.”Mickey snorted, though he mostly believed Ian now.

“Do you love me?”Ian asked quietly.

Jesus.Mickey had said those words to Ian exactly two times, once on a voice mail when Ian had Yevgeny and he was scared out of his mind for both of them and again when Ian broke up with him.Nothing good happened when Mickey said those words, so even if he did love Ian, he wasn’t going to say it.

Ian seemed to know.“Pushing too hard?”

“Way too hard.”Mickey agreed.

“I do though.” Ian said, nuzzling Mickey’s neck.

“Uh huh.”Mickey murmured leaning into the touch, hoping it would escalate.Kissing he could be down for.More talk about feelings he was done with.“Stop pushing.”

“Kiss me?”Ian asked, apparently reading his mind. 

“Will it shut you up?”Mickey joked.

“Yeah.”Ian breathed as their lips came together.


	21. Self Control and Other Unrealistic Expectations

Ian’s self control had never been tested like this before. 

It was as if Mickey had been the first high of his life and every partner that came after was just another fix, turning him into a junkie chasing that first, perfect high.Now here he was kissing Mickey and it was like being in a room with a huge pile of coke and telling himself he couldn’t snort it. 

Ian had no idea how long they had been standing on the landing kissing.What he did know was his lips felt swollen and raw and his body was tingling with need.He was so hard it was painful and the effort to keep from crashing their bodies together was close to breaking him.He needed to pull back soon.Real soon, but he didn’t want to. 

Mickey gave in first, leaning his body against Ian’s. 

Fuck, fuck and fuck Ian thought as the kiss faltered.Then Mickey gripped him hard and forced the kiss to continue but all Ian could feel was how Mickey was shaking now and how the brunets erection was starting to deflate against his thigh.

Ian pulled back, resting his head against Mickey’s forehead and gently pushing their bodies apart. 

“Fuck me, this sucks.”Mickey complained pushing them completely apart while staring at the floor and digging in his pockets for his pillbox with shaking hands.

Ian and Dr. Brynner had talked about this.The Ativan took the edge off, made it possible for Mickey to push through situations that triggered him. 

Dr. Brynner figured it was only a matter of time before Mickey tried to use it to increase the level of intimacy he was comfortable with.She warned that if Ian and Mickey were going to have a healthy relationship, they had to work through Mickey’s issues with clear heads and deliberate intention. 

As much as he would like to ignore this advice, Ian had to ask.“Do you need that because you’re freaking out or are you taking it so maybe we can keep going?”

“Both.”Mickey said as he popped a tab under his tongue. 

Damn.“Mickey, you know you’re only supposed to take those for panic attacks.”

“I _am_ panicking.”Mickey snapped.“This fucking sucks.”

Ian had seen Mickey panic and this was not it.“This does suck.You’ll get no argument from me, but if you’re trying to make it go faster for my sake, please don’t.”

“Fuck you.Do you have any idea what it’s like?”Mickey was glaring daggers at him, but then the intensity flickered and went out.“I can’t...I just want...fuck.”

“It’s okay.”Ian said, hoping he sounded reassuring.He knew it was not really okay, but he also understood this process was going to take time and patience.He had both where Mickey was concerned.

Mickey’s blue eyes slowly rose, alive again with anger.“You remember how pissed you were when I told you that when the meds were fucking with your dick?”

“Yeah.”They had gotten into a fist fight Ian had been so angry.Not being able to get it up had been humiliating in ways Ian had never experienced before.Being told it was okay had felt patronizing and he had hated it.

“I’ll beat you with these crutches if you say that to me again.”

“Got it.”Ian agreed. 

“It’s not okay, fuck.”

It really wasn’t, but at the same time, “Forcing it isn’t okay either.”

“Then what the fuck am I supposed to do?”Mickey dragged a hand down his face and slumped against the wall looking annoyed.

Ian and Dr. Brynner had talked about this too and Ian felt confident in his answer.“I guess we just keep doing what we can do until we can do more.What happened to you, that shit doesn’t just go away.I get that.We take our time, go slow, be patient.”

Mickey was quiet for a while and Ian began to think this moment, whatever it was, was over.Then Mickey glared at him and announced, “I don’t want you fucking anyone else.”

“I’m not.”Ian replied quickly. 

“You will.”

The lack of trust hurt, but it was deserved.Ian had fucked around a lot in the past, but he was not an unmedicated 17 year old anymore.He was a grown man, in control of his mental and physical health who was 100 percent positive he knew what he wanted.“I won’t.”

“If I were you, I would.”Mickey challenged.

“I don’t know what to say to that.”Ian replied.He wasn’t sure if he was being goaded or if Mickey was giving him license to cheat.

“I’ll get over it.I always do.” 

Mickey had stopped shaking, the Ativan doing its job.Ian hazarded a step forward and then another.Mickey didn’t move.Ian put his arms around Mickey’s neck and was comforted by how fast Mickey’s head fell against his chest.Rubbing reassuring circles on Mickey’s upper back, Ian said, “I’m not fucking anyone else, Mickey. You know I’m not.” 

Mickey nodded.

“I only want you.I love you and I will wait however long it takes.”

“This is such bullshit.”Mickey snarled, pushing Ian away. 

“You stuck with me through some seriously heinous shit, Mickey.This is that good times and bad, sickness and health stuff.We’ll get through this, too.”

“I’m not your god damn wife, for fucks sake.” Mickey pushed him all the way away, looking wired and ready to throw down.

Ian opened his mouth to retort, but Mickey’s anger was visibly leaching out of him.“Seriously Ian, what if I can’t?”

“I’m versatile.”Ian shrugged.He had not been back in the day.Back then he had been a gold star top and the idea of switching roles had honestly never even occurred to him.Since then Trevor had introduced him to his prostate and while bottoming still wasn’t his favorite, for Mickey it was something he would gladly do for the rest of his life if it meant they could be together.

Mickey quirked an eyebrow at him and opened his mouth.Then he closed it, frowned, and shook his head.“I mean what if this is as good as it gets?What if this, right now, is all thereis?”

Ian had thought about this possibility.“Then we’ll deal with it.I love you.Your body is just a bonus.There are lots of gay couples who don’t have sex....”

“Bullshit.”Mickey spat.

“There are. Something like 20-40% of gay men, depending on the study you read, don’t do anal. They love each other, but it just isn’t their thing.If they can make it work, so can we.”What he felt for Mickey transcended sex.There were work arounds for the sex issue.

“Yeah, but we,” Mickey pointed back and forth between them, “liked anal.A lot.One of us still does.”

“You’ve only been working on this for like a month, Mick.I think you’re leaping to conclusions.”Ian replied. 

“It would kill me.If we try and then because I can’t...it would kill me.”

“Mickey.”Ian sighed, finally understanding what Mickey was getting at.“Okay.What I’m hearing is that you’re afraid to commit to us being a couple again because you think sex is so important to me I’d leave you if we can’t do it.Is that right?”

“It’s what’ll happen.” 

“I can understand why you would think that, but it’s only been a few weeks.”In that time they had gone from barely speaking to making out in hallways.It was way too early to start worrying about never.

Mickey disagreed.“It could be years or never.”

“Yeah, it could.”Ian said, because Mickey needed him to acknowledge the possibility. However, it was not a deal killer to Ian.“So we develop other aspects of our relationship and find alternative ways to deal with our sexual needs.”

“I can’t even jerk off, you asshole.”Mickey growled, eyebrows furrowed into a sneer.Then suddenly his face went slack.“That’s how bad it is.I can’t even do that.”

“Oh, wow.”Ian had not known it was that bad.In their current circumstances Ian was jerking off a lot.Mickey wasn’t at all?No wonder the guy was so irritable.

“See?Now what are you thinking, Pollyanna?It’s just gonna magically work out?I’m gonna want your dick in no time, right?”

“I’m glad you told me.I didn’t know it was so bad.”How could he?This was the first time they had touched on the subject since Mickey made Dr. Mohammed tell him about the rape.

“Yeah, well, it is.So why torture each other?This shit isn’t going away, man.”

“You’re right, it isn’t going to just go away.”Ian agreed, but it was just one event in the timeline of Mickey’s life.It was a huge deal, no pretending it wasn’t, but it did not have to be the end all, be all.At some point Mickey would move from victim to survivor.He had done that his entire life.It was just too soon.“But neither am I.I love you.”

Mickey didn’t say anything.He just pushed the button for the elevator.

***

“Ian?”Debbie called, knocking on the office door.

Ian was not in the mood for family right now.He was too engrossed in his thoughts about what Mickey had revealed to him.Debbie knocked again.Annoyed, Ian called back, “What?”

She cracked the door open.“We’re back.Just wanted to see how you’re doing.”

“I’m fine, Debs.”Ian sighed, rubbing his eyes. 

She entered the room and sat in one of his teal velvet smoking chairs.The contrast of the color against her hair was beautiful.Concern lit up her dark eyes.“You don’t look fine.Need to talk?”

“No, but thanks for offering.”Ian replied, leaning back in his desk chair.If he was going to talk to anyone about what he had learned it would be Mickey or Dr. Brynner.

“Things okay with Mickey?”Debbie probed.

“Yeah.”

“Lots has changed, huh?”

“Yeah.”

She ran her hands through her long auburn hair, collecting it up into a loose bun.“Sometimes I think I’m the only one living the life I was supposed to.I mean, no one else did what they were supposed to do.Lip’s a drunk, Fiona’s a slum lord, you’re a millionaire, Carl wants to be a cop, Liam’s making straight As in private school and then there’s me.Single, teen mom with a blue collar job and no life still living at home straight out of the Southside playbook.”

No, the cliche would be if she was a high school drop out (true but she had her GED) living on welfare (not true) with at least two kids by two different fathers.There was actually very little that was cliche about Debbie’s life.She had done far better than most girls from the Southside at her age.Nor did she have to live like she did.Ian would help her in whatever way she would let him.“If you want to go to college, Debs, you know...”

“I don’t want you to pay for me.”She snapped.

Ian quirked an eyebrow.“So you’d go if I wasn’t paying for it?”

She shifted her weight and crossed her arms, the picture of defiance.“I actually like being a welder.”

Ian shrugged.If she liked it then so be it.Who was he to judge? More to reassure himself than Debbie, he asked, “Okay then, but if you needed anything you’d tell me, right?”

She nodded and then changed the subject.“How did Mickey become an accountant?”

“Dunno.”Ian shrugged.He wondered that himself, but,“He doesn’t like to talk about prison so I don’t ask.All I know is he got his degree when he was inside.”

“Is he okay?”Debbie asked, the concern evident in her voice and body language.

Ian considered lying, but this was Debbie.“No, I don’t think he is, but he’s working on it.”

“You still love him?”

“Deeply.”It felt like he had a bottomless well of love for the man.

“Did you know when you met him it was love?”

“I met him in Little League.”

“Then how did you know?”She asked, blunt as always. 

Ian shrugged.“I just knew.I don’t know how to explain it.”

“You broke up with him though and dated all those other people, did you still love him then?”

“Bipolar is a bitch, Debs.”That was an understatement.“He was trying so hard to take care of me and I was trying so hard to deny I was sick, we were just like this,” He butted his fists against each other.“I was terrified of being Monica and turning him into Frank.I left him thinking it would be better for both of us, but it wasn’t.I tried very hard to pretend I was okay without him, but in the end, there’s only Mickey.”

Debbie nodded, thoughtful.“Why isn’t he sleeping with you?”

Ian should have expected that question, but it still threw him for a loop.He wished they were sleeping together, but now he understood how long a process getting Mickey back in his bed was likely to be.It sucked, but at least he knew a little more about what he was up against. “Because six years is a long time and starting over is hard.We can’t just pick up where we left off.We have to build something new now.”

“Are you going to get married?”

Yes, Ian wanted to say, but when she went and talked to Mickey, as she inevitably would, he didn’t want her to tell him he said that.“What’s with the 20 questions?”

“Just wondering.” She shrugged.“You’re the only Gallagher who’s ever had a relationship last.And you’re the only one who sees a shrink.”

True on both counts.As bad as it had been at times, he and Mickey had made it almost three years the first time.This time, Ian wanted it to be the rest of their lives.“Are you seeing someone?”

“Yeah, but I suck at relationships.I just don’t want to fuck it up.”Debbie scrunched her face and looked a little crest fallen.Gallaghers tended to torpedo their relationships.

Between raping an older man, tricking a boy into getting her pregnant, living off a brain damaged paraplegic and screwing around with a hairdresser, Debbie was dreadful at not only choosing men but keeping them. 

If a man came along who looked like he had more to offer, Debbie lost interest in the boyfriend she had and pursued the better deal which Ian thought was stupid.He’d had many men who on paper looked much better than Mickey, but they were not. Not for him.

“You know what I’ve learned?” He’d learned loads about relationships in the past six years, sort of like all the boyfriends in between had been necessary lessons to make reuniting with Mickey possible.“You have to be honest with yourself and your partner.You have to let them help you rather than hide things from them.Quit telling yourself you’re protecting them.You aren’t.You have to be willing to listen and adjust what you want to what they need.But most importantly, it’s meant to be you can really, really fuck up, and somehow still work it out.”

“Like you and Mickey.”

“Exactly.”

***

Mickey had stayed in his room all day.No one had seen or heard from him.Ian had gone to his door multiple times, but each time decided to leave Mickey alone.He had revealed something very personal and it had clearly upset him. 

Ian felt guilty about it, but he had used Mildred twice to eaves drop and reassure himself Mickey was still alive in there.The brunette was playing _Torchlight_ which Ian knew from personal experience could suck hours from your life without you realizing it. 

After talking to Debbie, Ian retreated to the gym trying to work off some frustration.He’d been lifting weights for about 20 minutes when Fiona cornered him.

She leaned on the doorframe looking contrite.“Hey, Ian?Can we talk?”

He did not stop doing his curls.“About what?”

“I’m sorry.” 

“That it?”If it was, it was not enough.He was tired of sorrys without any change in behavior. 

“You’ve done really good you know.”

He put the weights down and looked at her.“Yeah, I know.”

She moved into the room and sat down next to him on the weight bench.“I might be projecting Monica onto you sometimes.”

No shit.“I’m not Monica.”

She put an arm around him and squeezed.“You’ve done so good, Ian.I’m really proud of you.”

Yeah.He knew she was proud of him.That was not enough anymore.“But you don’t trust me.”

She left her arm draped over his shoulders.“We both grew up with Monica...”

Ian shrugged her arm off and stood up.Glaring down at her he said, “I am not fucking Monica.”

“I know.I know you’re not.”She stood up too, arms open in what he was sure was meant to be a reassuring gesture.All it did was piss him off.She tried to justify herself saying, “Sometimes I just...I forget, I guess.I think of all the times Monica seemed normal but then fucked shit up and I project that onto you.”

“Well, you need to stop.”It was the same conversation they had been having off and on since he got his act together.He was tired of it.“If I can run Claymore I’m pretty sure I can be trusted to take my meds every day and occasionally watch the kids.”

Her agreement was immediate.“You’re right.What can I say?When you’re right, you’re right. I’m gonna work on it, okay?”

“Okay.”Ian said, though he had heard all of this before.She had been promising to work on it for years now.

“I love you, you know.”She said pulling him in for a hug.

There was something about Fiona’s hugs that caused strong emotions to melt.There was comfort in her arms that could be found nowhere else and no matter how angry he might be at her, if she got her arms around him the anger would dissipate.Ian figured it was a mother figure thing. 

He hugged her back giving her a tight squeeze that lifted her off her feet before he said, “Yeah, I know.You, too.”

As they parted, Fiona gave him a wry look.“You should have heard Mickey this morning.He chewed me out good.”

“I did hear.Love that man.”

“You were listening?”

“Yeah.”Ian said as he continued on with his workout. 

Fiona shrugged off his eaves dropping.In their old house, overhearing things was unavoidable.The walls were thin and there were way too many people for privacy to really exist.She changed the subject.“What’s up with him?” 

Warily, Ian asked, “What do you mean?”

“I mean, is he okay?”She actually sounded concerned.“He looks like a stiff breeze could blow him down.”

Mickey was the skinniest Ian had ever seen him.If he weighed a buck ten Ian would be surprised.He was pale, in need of a hair cut and there were dark circles that seemed to have taken up permanent residence under his eyes.Objectively, Mickey looked like hell.Subjectively, Mickey looked like the man Ian loved.To answer his sister, Ian said, “He’s been through some shit.”

Fiona nodded.“I heard Terry was on his block in prison.”

Ian stopped what he was doing and pegged his sister with a sharp eyed stare.“Where’d you hear that?” 

“Tony.” 

He was one of the Milkovich uncles who had taken part in beating the shit out of Ian and Mickey when Mickey came out.The asshole had probably loved telling stories.“Tony tell you what Terry did to him?”

“Enough.”She said softly, like thinking about whatever she’d heard hurt her.“The hip, did Terry do that?”

“Yeah.”Ian nodded.It was pretty obvious, though talking about Mickey with his sister always made him uncomfortable.

“Jesus.”She sighed.“Same with the brace on his knee?”

“Yeah.”

“Because of your relationship.”It was a statement, not a question.

“Terry’s a homophobic asshole.”

“That’s an understatement.No wonder the Milkoviches are so...the way they are.” 

The anger that always danced on the edges of conversations with Fiona about Mickey leaped forward again.Ian was about to let her have it, when she gave him her eyes, soft and compassionate.“He’s it, isn’t he?”

Ian cocked his head at her, not sure if she was disappointed or accepting.“Yeah.He’s the one.”

She nodded and then asked, “Why is he sleeping in a separate room?”

There were a lot of reasons but Ian didn’t want to share any of them with his sister.Instead he went with the most generic reason.“Because, technically, we aren’t back together yet.We’re still working through some stuff.”

“Oh.”Her brow furrowed.

Not wanting her to think about it too hard, Ian explained, “I want to go slow, get to know each other again.Six years is a long time.”

“Yeah, it is.”She agreed.Then she asked,“Is Mickey on board with this plan?”

She knew him far too well.He did tend to subconsciously maneuver people into the positions he wanted them in.This time though, Ian knew Mickey wanted the same thing he wanted.Mickey was just a little gun shy.“I hurt him really bad, Fi.”

“He did try to kill our half sister.”She replied with a shrug and a twinkle in her eye.

Ian didn’t care about the twinkle.Sometimes when she teased it was really a scolding.Feeling defensive, Ian skewered her with a dark look and practically snarled, “She’s not my anythingand he kept Debbie out of it.He’s a stand up guy.I love him and I swear to God, if you try to undermine...”

Fiona’s hands went up in surrender as she cut him off.“Hang on there, buddy.I’m not trying to cause trouble.If you’re sure he’s the man for you, then I’m gonna be happy for you and support you, okay?Someone in this family has to prove Gallaghers can do relationships.It gives hope to the rest of us.”

“I am absolutely certain.Mickey’s it.”

“I’m happy for you,”She said with a smile Ian didn’t believe. “I’m going to go start on dinner.Should be ready in about an hour.”


	22. Date Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for not posting yesterday. I’m a nurse working 12 hour shifts (Theoretically since they tend to be much longer) so I might miss a day here and there as the COVID-19 response is a rapidly changing, constantly evolving situation we are grappling with. 
> 
> This pandemic is a HUGE public health crisis that is already having dramatic effects on many. It will get worse before it gets better. Do your part and self isolate as much as possible. If you need financial help or food assistance, or if you can help provide those to others, there are organizations that are already in place and newer community grown options are popping up all over the country.
> 
> This is scary, but we will get through it - alone together.

“You’re family is exhausting, man.Fuck.”Mickey groaned as they pulled away from the curb at La Guardia.They had just dropped off the Gallagher clan at the airport. 

Friday had been a beating starting with the argument with Fiona, then the hallway incident with Ian.Mickey had hidden in his room the rest of the day until dinner forced him back out.

It was obvious to everyone something was going on between them and in typical Gallagher fashion their attempts to dance around it included a lot of stepped on toes.With all the grace of a beached elephant seal, Carl had blundered into the separate bedrooms situation which Liam then took up and missed all cues to drop. 

Talking about their relationship, which was undefined and uncertain, upped the tension level significantly.Fiona, Debbie and Mandy tried to smooth it over, but Ian was pissed while Carl and Liam were confused.

Mickey wasn’t happy about it, but he had expected the Gallaghers to nose into his business. It’s what they did.It was their form of caring. 

Still, that didn’t mean he wanted to hear it.Mickey had retreated back to his room as soon as possible, very aware the argument had continued on long after he left. 

Nothing made it more obvious than how visibly upset Ian had still been over breakfast.

Mickey was hoping he would calm down now his family was gone.

Ian settled back into the black leather of the town car.“I’m pretty sure family in general is exhausting.”

Mickey wouldn’t know.His family was dangerous.Ian’s was a circus.Somewhere out there he was sure there were people who lived like _Leave it to Beaver_ , but he doubted he would ever meet them.Those were a different class of people. 

“Can’t wait for Christmas.”Mickey snarked.It would be even more fun with Lip present, he thought.

Ian snorted and rolled his eyes.Then he changed the subject.“So you ready for dinner?”

“Starving.”Mickey said and his stomach emphasized the point by growling.

The restaurant Mickey had chosen was moderately priced and only a few blocks from Ian’s house.It had nearly five star Yelp reviews so he figured it had to be good.As far as he understood it, picking the place was the hardest part about a date.It figured Ian would leave that shit to him.

The next hardest part was deciding what to wear when nothing he owned fit right.His new job had forced him to do some serious wardrobe upgrades, but he was even skinnier now so everything hung off him like he was playing dress up in his father’s clothes.

He assumed business casual was what people wore on dates.It’s what they wore on TV anyway.He had known Ian would look like a god and that any attempt to match him would be a waste of time, but he still wanted to look decent enough people didn’t wonder what a gorgeous man like Ian was doing with a schlump like him. 

It was not to be.He needed a haircut, he nicked his face shaving, his shirt could fit two of him in it and his pants were literally being held up by his belt which was on the last notch.He looked like he had a terminal illness.

“That color makes your eyes pop.”Ian said, expression lit up with a soft smile.

Jesus, Ian was doing his mind reading trick again.The shirt he was wearing was one Mandy had picked for him claiming the icy blue color brought out the blue of his eyes.He had chosen to listen to her since he knew fuck all about fashion.Nor had he cared much, though now he was glad he’d listened since at least the color was a small redeeming factor in how bad he looked.

He should probably compliment Ian back, but what could he say that Ian didn’t already know?

The man was beautiful and in great shape.As if the flame red of his hair was not enough to draw attention, he had on an emerald green button up that hugged his body without looking too tight.It had to be a custom shirt to fit like it did. His jeans were dark and tight enough to show off the curve of his ass without being too obvious.

They could not look more mismatched if they tried.

“Would you quit worrying?It’s just dinner.We have a few cocktails. We eat.We talk.We go home.Simple.”

Sure.Simple.Mickey had never been on a date before much less on a date with a semi-celebrity.After a lifetime of hiding who he was, the idea people might recognize Ian and probably assume they were on a date was frightening.Mickey liked to fly below the radar.Ian was soaring high above the clouds for all to see.It was yet another complication Mickey was not sure he could deal with.“What if people recognize you?”

Ian cocked an eyebrow at him and then shrugged off his concern saying, “They most likely won’t, but if someone does I’ll fend them off with a smile and maybe an autograph and we continue on.”

What if people took pictures?Did Ian have paparazzi?Mickey’s knee started bouncing and his heart started to race as it occurred to him people might want to know who Ian was dating and then all his shit would be dragged out into the public eye and what was already hard as fuck to deal with would become a nightmare and...

“Do you not want to go?”Ian asked, putting a hand on Mickey’s bouncing knee.

Mickey thought about that and made an attempt at being reasonable.It wasn’t like Ian was a movie star.He was a young, handsome guy who ran a gaming company.His name might be famous, but how famous was his face?How many people would recognize Mark Zuckerberg if he went out to dinner?Or Jeff Bezos?People knew the names, but if they saw either man in a restaurant would they mob them?Probably not.“No.No, I want to go.It’s good being out of the fucking house.”

Ian smiled.“The first date I went on, I felt like an idiot the entire time.The guy wasn’t Southside so he didn’t get how totally new the entire thing was to me, you know?It was sort of humiliating actually.The place was really nice and the prices were insane to me at the time.I didn’t have a clue what 90 percent of the menu even was because I’d never been anywhere like it before.

He ordered wine, which I didn’t like, and a bunch of appetizers to share.Never asked me what I wanted, which was fine by me since I didn’t know what to order anyway.Then he started asking questions that seemed really nosy to me.Like he wanted to know about my family, my education, future plans, stuff like that.Stuff people don’t talk about where we’re from.Then he got mad at me for not opening up to him and gushing out answers.It was a total disaster.”

“This was the vagina fucker, right?”Mickey could not remember who had told him about the firefighter Ian briefly lived with, but he knew the guy had really messed with Ian’s mind.

“Yeah.”

Mickey didn’t get it.He was glad the relationship had fallen apart, but still he wondered.“How come you got so mad at him about that?I fucked girls.”

“Because he _liked_ it.”

“You ever try pussy?”Mickey asked.

“Once.It was horrible.”

Mickey chuckled at the traumatized look on Ian’s face.Mickey had had a number of female partners and he could not understand what the big deal was.All of his sexual experiences before Ian had been female.Once he had been with Ian he lost what little interest he had had in women.He had still fucked a couple in an effort to deny his homosexuality, but it was just a weird combo of desperation and meh. 

Ian pulled a face and shuddered.“It was all loose and slimy and boobs!Boobs, man.Those are just weird.”

“You are so gay.”Mickey laughed.

“Oh, yeah.Totally, 100 percent gay.” Ian agreed.Then he turned a contemplative look on Mickey.“You didn’t think it was gross?”

Mickey shrugged.“A hole is a hole.”

“Would you ever have sex with a woman again now that you don’t have to?”Ian asked.There was a fragility to the way he asked that made Mickey pause to think about his answer.

If desperate times called for desperate measures, maybe, but he didn’t have to live a lie anymore.He had paid a very steep price to be able to live as he was born.He was still paying it.“I’m all done trying to pretend I’m something I’m not. I’m still just a big old ‘mo.”

Ian smiled at him, soft and sweet, as the hand on Mickey’s knee squeezed.

They rode the rest of the way to the restaurant in silence.Mickey’s thoughts centered on the hand on his knee and the way Ian’s thumb was subconsciously rubbing his thigh. 

No one in his life had ever touched him the way Ian did.The gentle, sweet little caresses had spoken so loudly of love and acceptance before.Mickey had let himself fall prey to those touches, allowed his heart to love and long for them. 

Then Ian robbed him of those little intimacies and all that touched him was brutality and clinical efficiency. 

Being touched like this again was a special form of torture.It contrasted so sharply with recent experience and while he loved it, it reminded him how easily Ian had taken this feeling away.Mickey pushed Ian’s hand off his leg as the car pulled to a stop outside the restaurant.

“You okay?”Ian asked, climbing out of the car and stretching.

“Yeah.I’m good.”Mickey lied.He would be.He wanted to be.

Ian held the door open for him and Mickey crutch walked his way inside the restaurant.They were seated and handed menus which Mickey buried his attention in.He was working himself up and he knew it. 

Mickey had accused Fiona of still holding things from six years ago against Ian even when it was clear Ian had worked past them.Mickey was doing the exact same thing.It wasn’t right.“I’m sorry.”

Ian looked up from his menu, confused.“What for?”

“Nothing.Never mind.It’s just shit in my head.Nothing to do with you really.” It was not healthy for Mickey to be thinking about and it certainly wouldn’t be good for Ian to think about. 

“Whatever you say, Mickey.”Ian shrugged, returning his attention to the menu.“You know what you want?”

What a loaded question.Mickey thought maybe he did, but it was hard.He wasn’t sure if he could have what he wanted, if he could take what Ian was offering.He wasn’t angry anymore, not really.He had meant it when he told Ian he forgave him, but it didn’t change what had happened between them.It didn’t change what had happened _to_ him.

Ian wasn’t asking about that though.He was asking about food.

Mickey looked at the menu again.If he hadn’t been surfing Pinterest and YouTube and learning to cook he wouldn’t know what half this shit was.“Dunno.What are you getting?”

“I was thinking the seared ahi for an appetizer and the braised pork chop.”

“Oh.”Mickey read both of those options.He was not on board with raw fish and the side dishes for the pork chop were not on his list of culinary curiosities.

“The stuffed mushrooms look good, too.”Ian suggested.

Mickey read the description.They were stuffed with pork sausage, cream cheese and spices.That he could be down for.“Yeah.Let’s get those.What else?”

“The filet mignon looks pretty amazing.”

It came with a garlic Parmesan mashed potato and braised Brussels sprouts and a whiskey glaze.Interest peaked, Mickey still took a moment to scan the rest of the menu to see if there was something else he would like more, but in the end, Ian had been right.The filet mignon was the ticket.

A pretty blonde girl walked up to their table with a tablet in hand.She smiled.“I’m Lacy and I’ll be your server tonight.Can I get you gentlemen started with something from the bar?”

“Beer.”Mickey said, knowing he was going to be hit with a long list of options.She rattled off everything they had on draft and Mickey picked the one with the craziest name since he had never heard of any of the beers they had.

Ian ordered a bottle of Chilean Malbec which Mickey raised an eyebrow at.Ian shouldn’t drink that much.The redhead waved a hand at Mickey and rolled his eyes well aware of what Mickey was thinking.“Ordering by the bottle gets you better wines.I won’t drink all of it, sheesh.”

Mickey shrugged. 

“Any appetizers?” Lacy asked.

They placed their orders and then they were alone again.

Mickey felt nervous.He wasn’t sure why.He glanced around the room.It was a nice modern space, the music wasn’t terrible and the food he could see other people eating looked pretty tasty. 

Mickey’s gaze went back to the redhead when Lacy returned with their drinks and took their dinner orders. 

Ian’s eyes were so green tonight.Sometimes they could seem brown and other times almost blue.He was beautiful and it was once again mind blowing that a man like Ian could ever want someone like Mickey.That must be why he was so nervous. 

His gaze fell to the beer in front of him.He had felt beyond lucky Ian had wanted him six years ago when they were both Southside trash with no futures.So much had changed since then, some for better, some for worse. 

It made no sense Ian still wanted him.None at all.

“Sorry about my family.”Ian said after a sip of his wine.

Family was never easy.“Nah, at least they love you.That’s something, right?”

There was another silence and then Ian said, “Mandy mentioned she wanted to invite Iggy to Christmas.I guess they’ve been talking lately.What do you think?”

“Are you serious?”Mandy had not mentioned a visit to him.She had been talking about Iggy a lot recently however.Ever since they had shared what Terry had done to them, Mandy had been speculating about what their father must have done to Iggy.It made sense she would get back in touch with him.What did not make sense was Ian being on board with it.“To your place?”

“Yeah, I guess so.”Ian shrugged, watching him.

Mickey had broken free of his old life and didn’t want to risk getting sucked back into it.Rather than say so, he asked, “Is there room?”

Ian cocked his head and arched a sardonic eyebrow.“I thought you were good at math.Yeah.There’s room.”

Duh, the house was fucking huge.It had nine bedrooms.Mickey just really didn’t want to deal with his family.He loved Mandy.Iggy was tolerable, but if he never saw another Milkovich for the rest of his life, he would be fine with that.To clarify he asked, “Just him?”

“Yeah, just Iggy.” Ian confirmed.“She said she thinks he’s trying to figure his life out since you two have proven it’s possible to get out of the Southside.”

Huh.Iggy was dumb as a post, had dropped out in middle school and was high literally 24/7.His job in the family business had involved roughing people up, driving, and digging holes.Iggy had never been more than a minion.Mickey feared he might still be.

Mandy wasn’t an idiot though.The thought had to have crossed her mind.She had to believe it was safe to bring Iggy back into their lives.Mickey was on the fence about it, but it was not as if Terry couldn’t find them anyway if he really wanted. “I guess.If you’re cool with it.”

Ian nodded.“Sure.I’ll tell her to invite him.”

“Wow.”Mickey said under his breath.He took a large gulp of his beer and then another.Iggy, a possible extension of Terry, would be with them for Christmas.It made him even more nervous about the holiday.Milkoviches did not do holidays.They had not even had a tree since before their mother died.Most importantly though, “This’ll be my first Christmas with Yev.”

Ian smiled gently.“I know.They’re staying over, too.”

Mickey did some quick math and chuckled, “I think you’re over booked there, sport.”

“Nah, we’ll put the Gallaghers on the fifth floor and Svet and Iggy on the forth.The kids can have the sixth floor.Those couches pull out and I’ll get some tents and shit to make it like a play fort.Kev and Vee can take your room and you stay with me.The couch in my room pulls out so we don’t have to share a bed or anything if you don’t want to.”

“Kev and Vee are coming, too?”Jesus, it was going to be a madhouse, but it sort of made sense.The Balls were like family to the Gallaghers.However, “Did you invite all these people just to get me in your bed?”

Ian almost choked on his wine.“Would you believe me if I said I didn’t?”

“No.” Mickey replied.It might not have been Ian’s main motivation, but it certainly was a fringe benefit as far as the ginger idiot was concerned.Not sure if he was genuinely asking or just being a dick, Mickey queried, “What about the basement apartment?”

“It’s not even furnished.” 

“Riiight.”Mickey rolled his eyes.Ian could move mountains when he felt like it.Hell, even Mickey could get a one bedroom apartment furnished in a day.

“It’s not meant for guests.”

Meaning it was meant for servants, which Ian did not really have.He had a team of housekeepers who came once a week and a laundry service that picked up and delivered on the same day the housekeepers were there.Mickey didn’t like having strangers in the house, but the house was too big for a couple of guys to keep clean.Though Ian had repeatedly explained, Mickey still couldn’t understand why he needed such a big house.“It’s a nicer apartment than anywhere I ever lived.”

Ian agreed.“I’m not saying it isn’t a nice place, but it feels weird.If anyone else comes I’ll have to use it, but I’d really rather not.”

“Sometimes I have no idea who you are anymore, geez.”Mickey groaned as Lacy came back by to check on them.Mickey ordered another beer and let his gaze roam around the room.An obviously gay couple was being seated over Ian’s left shoulder.

“If you saw the main house and then got stuck in the basement apartment, you wouldn’t feel insulted?”Ian asked, clearly unhappy with Mickey’s interpretation of events.

Now that was a fair point.The basement apartment might be nicer than any place in the Southside or Mickey’s current Brooklyn apartment, but it was nothing compared to the main house.

For a moment, Mickey considered moving into the basement apartment himself, but the optics were bad.The inquisition from Thanksgiving would seem like a walk in the park compared to another interrogation led by Lip and everyone else who had not been here last time.Damn.“Fine.Fine, but you will be sleeping on your couch, gingerbread.”

“Yeah, I figured.” Ian shrugged as if it was no big deal.

It was a big deal to Mickey.Being unable to enjoy physical intimacy sucked.So did the gay guy who’s eyes had not left Ian’s back since he had arrived.Annoyed, Mickey told Ian, “There’s a guy staring at you on your five o’clock.”

“Yeah?Is he cute?” Ian asked, not turning to look.His smile was teasing, but it was not amusing to Mickey.Realizing his mistake, Ian spread his hands out in a conciliatory gesture and said, “Kidding.Good staring or bad staring?”

“Leering.”It was taking Mickey everything he had not to go ask the guy what the fuck he thought he was looking at.

Ian arched an eyebrow.“You sure he’s not leering at you?”

“No one’s leering at my skinny ass.He’s looking at you.”

“I happen to really like your skinny ass.” Ian complemented with an eyebrow waggle.

“I look like I survived a fucking concentration camp.”

Ian shook his head.“You’re beautiful to me.”

“Shut up.”Mickey insisted cutting Ian off before the redhead could say anything else.He knew what he looked like and it was not good.He didn't like being patronized, especially not by Ian.To get a little space, Mickey decided to take care of a less than pressing need.“I’m gonna go piss.”

***

Ian turned around so he could watch Mickey slowly thread his way through the tables to the bathroom.It irritated him how few people made room for a man on crutches, but that was Mickey’s battle and one he was winning, probably pretty rudely judging from the looks following him.

Once Mickey disappeared from view, Ian pulled out his phone and texted Mandy the news about Iggy.It was another step in blending their families and though Iggy was pretty much a waste of space in Ian’s opinion it was still important.

That done, Ian turned his attention to the table at his five o’clock and sighed.He got up and walked over.“Johnny, hey.”

Johnny, a tall, handsome man with a pony tail and Angelina Jolie worthy lips stood up and hugged Ian before nodding his head in the direction of the bathrooms.“Was that the infamous Mickey?”

Ian had been very, very drunk one night and told an entire room full acquaintances about his first love.He had told stories with enough (too many) details it was unsurprising someone like Johnny would remember the specifics and connect the dots.It was not the first time Ian wished he could take that night back.Johnny was an opportunist with a big mouth.Ian thought about lying for a split second, but knew he would be caught and didn’t want to give Johnny the leverage. He sighed and said, “Yes.”

“Get some meat on him and I bet he’s a fine piece of ass.Or better yet get it _in_ him, that might help, too.”Johnny joked.The gorgeous blonde man he was with chuckled.

Ian on the other hand did not find it funny.Not one bit.In the years since Claymore had taken off, he had been able to shake off his Southside tendency to lead with his fists when angered.Sometimes it was really fucking hard to resist though.Hands balled white knuckle tight, he offered a threatening smile and said, “Fuck off.”

Johnny rolled his eyes as if Ian were not serious and changed the subject.“You know I’m teasing.This beauty right here is Ray.”

“Hi.”Ian greeted the blonde with a handshake.Ray’s blue eyes were vapid and bloodshot.He looked like he was on something.

Obligatory glad handing completed Ian was about to make an excuse and return to his table when Johnny asked, “How’s the gaming world?”

“Lucrative.” Ian replied since money was the only thing Johnny had any real interest in.Out of the corner of his eye he saw Mickey crutch walking his way towards them.Shit.He was going to have to make introductions.

“I’m working with another retail chain.Amazon, man.It’s a killer.”Johnny grinned. 

Mickey took up residence at Ian’s side.He was frowning.Under the best of circumstances Mickey hated meeting new people.Ian vividly remembered the parties he had dragged Mickey to and how uncomfortable Mickey had been and how uncomfortable he made other people.

Ian draped a possessive arm over Mickey’s shoulders and made the introductions, “Mickey Milkovich, this is Johnny Blount and his friend Ray.I know Johnny from a tech company I bought a while back.He’s a business analyst who works with failing companies to either find a way to survive or go out of business.”

“S’up.”Mickey greeted with a nod of his head.He did not offer his hand.

Johnny’s eyebrows raised, clearly feeling the insult just as Mickey intended.To smooth it over Ian continued, “Mickey’s a forensic accountant at Wolfe, Pratt and Stevens.”

“What does that even mean?”Ray asked with a confused smile.

Mickey arched an eyebrow unsure if the blonde was teasing him.“I figure out how the books got cooked.”

“Oh, wow.That’s a thing?” The blonde gave a dazzling smile.“I’m a actor and a model.”

“Of course you are.”Mickey sneered.

This was not going anywhere good.Luckily Ian glanced over his shoulder to see Lacy approaching with a tray of food.“Hey, our food’s arriving.Nice to meet you, Ray.Catch you boys later.”

As they made their way back to their table, Mickey asked, “That guy? Really?”

Ian stayed standing until Mickey had taken his seat.Mickey was at his least steady when trying to sit.As Ian sat, he answered Mickey’s question.“We went out once and before you ask, no, I didn’t fuck him.”

“Huh.”Mickey snorted.

As Lacy set his seared ahi in front of him Ian was focused solely on Mickey.“You mad?”

Mickey stabbed one of his mushrooms with a fork.“Why the fuck would I be mad?”

“Because I know you and you are.”Ian replied.He’d given Mickey plenty of reasons not to trust him.They would go through this a lot in the coming months as Mickey met more people in Ian’s life.In this instance the jealousy was largely misplaced.“You’re mad at me for going out with the guy once almost two years ago. We had drinks, I decided he was a douchebag and went home alone.We run in the same circles so I bump into him sometimes.”

Mickey changed the subject.“I like this beer, man.This is good shit.”

“Cool.”Ian said making a mental note to order a case or a keg as soon as he got home.He was happy to let the subject of Johnny drop.“How’re the mushrooms?”

“Killer.How’s your raw fish?”Mickey asked, making a face.

“Amazing.You want some?”

“Fuck no.It’s raw.” 

Ian laughed.“Says the guy who ordered his steak bloody.”

“Rare.” Mickey corrected.“I ordered it rare, not raw.”

“Whatever.Your loss.”Ian said as he popped another piece of fish in his mouth.It really was to die for.

They ate in silence for a while and then Mickey said, “I want to ask you something.”

“Yeah?”Ian perked up.

“What do you want for Christmas?”Mickey asked looking uncomfortable.

“I’m happy just to have you back in my life.I don't need anything else.”It was the most honest answer Ian could give.There was nothing else in the world he wanted.

Mickey frowned. “I know you don’t need shit, but you gotta want something.”

What he wanted was Mickey back in his bed, but that was not something he could ask the brunet for.Not now.Instead, he said, “You don't have to get me anything, Mickey.”

Mickey glared at him.

“Okay, if you insist, I’d really like to go see Yankee Stadium.I know it’s not the old historic one, but I’d still like to go.I don’t care what the event is, I just want to go.”Ian didn’t care if it was baseball, soccer, hockey or a concert.It just popped into his mind as something they could do together.Back in the day they had sneaked into several Cubs games.They had always had a good time.

“Got it.”Mickey nodded.

Since they were talking about gifts, Ian asked, “What do you want for Christmas?”

Mickey immediately blushed and demurred.“I’ve got more than I ever thought I’d have, man.”

This was true for both of them.It did not mean there weren't still things they wanted and did not have yet.Ian had a very long list of things he would like to do or try.“Is there something you’ve always wanted to try but never did?”

“Hell, red, that’s a long list.Anything you haven’t done is probably something I haven’t done either.”Mickey shrugged.He shrugged off many things.It was a survival skill Ian knew well.It was easier than hoping.Hope hurt.

Rather than insist Mickey tell him what he really wanted, Ian also shrugged.“Huh.So I just have to figure it out?”

“I guess you do.”Mickey replied with a smirk just as Lacy came back with their entrees.

“Fine.Don’t bother buying anyone else gifts though.”Ian, Fiona and Lip had talked a lot about gifts over the years as Ian grew wealthy.It was never a comfortable topic. 

Ian vividly remembered wanting a savior, someone with loads of money to swoop in and rescue them.Now he was that guy and he wanted to give his family the moon, but he had not really considered how weird it would be. 

He paid off the North Wallace house and all the debts Frank had racked up in their names.He offered cars, college, moving out of the Southside and discovered his family had a lot more pride than he had thought.

They expected him to pay for things and then resented it when he did.They did not want to ask him for money when they clearly needed it, but got mad at him when he offered.They got mad at him when he didn’t offer. 

It was even worse around gifts at Christmas. 

He could pretty much give them anything, but it was extremely awkward.What made it so horrible was how split his siblings were about his generosity.Lip and Debbie resented any attempt he made to provide for them.Carl and Liam were exactly opposite and expected him to pony up for the big gifts.Fiona road the fence and could fall in either camp depending on her whim.Around Christmas she tended to side with Lip and Debbie. 

Thus, deciding who would give what at Christmas and birthdays had turned into a negotiation more delicate than any of the ones Ian conducted in his business life.It sucked and he hated it. 

This year, Debbie had had the bright idea that personal gift prices would be capped at $30 but ‘Santa’ could be more generous.There had been a lot of moaning and groaning when this plan was shared with the kids who were also buying gifts. They thought this Christmas was going to suck if Ian was limited to only $30, but it would all be worth it on Christmas Day when ‘Santa’ came through with the big gifts. Only Frannie and Yevgeny still believed, so to Ian it was a stupid subterfuge but if it made his siblings happy, so be it.

“Wasn’t planning to.”Mickey said.“Just you, Mandy, Svet, Yev and I guess Iggy now.I bet you’re buying everyone cars or some shit.”

“Or some shit.”Ian replied with a smile. 

Ian spent the rest of the meal telling Mickey about the Gallagher Christmas gift plan which Mickey seemed to find both humor and offense in.

“Can I get you gentlemen the dessert menu?”Lacy asked as she took away their dinner plates.

“Sure.”Ian agreed.

Mickey pushed back from the table and put a hand on his stomach.“I’m stuffed.”

Ian disagreed and made a selection.When Mickey harrumphed at him, Ian shrugged. “There’s always room for chocolate.”

“Trying to fatten me up?”Mickey joked.

Definitely, Ian thought.Mickey was so thin he looked unhealthy.Not wanting to be too obvious, he teased back, “Maybe.”

“Good.I need it.”Mickey said, amusement leaching from his expression.

It killed Ian to see Mickey down on himself.He reached across the table but Mickey didn’t take his hand.Yep, should not have teased.Damn.He also knew if he told Mickey he thought he was beautiful it would only make the situation worse.“Mickey.”

“Just need to get back to working out.”Mickey said with false bravado.They both knew it would be a while before Mickey would be doing any serious exercising.His physical therapy still wore him out.

It was a process, like everything else in Mickey’s life right now.“I still think you’re hot as fuck, but whatever, man.”

Mickey glanced up at him, a flash of blue, before his gaze returned to the table.He didn’t respond.

Mickey could be very hard on himself sometimes and he never had taken compliments well.Floundering for something to break the silence that formed, Ian asked, “This is kinda cool, isn’t it?”

“Somehow I thought dating would be more than just dinner.”Mickey replied.

Ian had thought the same thing the first time he went on a date.It seemed to him it was only about fancy food, expensive cocktails and trying to impress each other. 

Ian and Mickey ate just as well at home since it was either take out or Mickey’s cooking and Ian had a better wine cellar.He and Mickey already knew each other pretty well and the things they didn’t know where things neither of them wanted to talk about in private, much less in public. 

Dates weren’t really just dinner anyway.They usually had an activity too.“We could go to a movie.”

“Nah, I’m tired.I’d prefer to just go ho..back to the house.”

It made Ian’s heart warm hearing Mickey’s slip of the tongue.Trying not to smile too huge, Ian said, “Sure.We can do that.Maybe next time we’ll do dinner and a show?”

“Like Broadway?”Mickey asked, both eyebrows arched.

“Yeah.”Ian nodded as Lacy returned with their dessert.It was a cake slice with ice cream and berries large enough to feed at least four people. 

“Like a couple of old queers?”Mickey asked, taking a forkful of cake.

“Like a couple of young queers, yes.”Ian laughed.It was stereotypical, but so what?He had enjoyed the theater the one time he’d gone.Mickey might, too.Or he might not.No big deal either way.

“You ever been?”Mickey asked around his third forkful of cake.

“Once.It was pretty cool.”Ian replied, licking residual frosting off his fork.He would only eat a couple small bites of the cake since he wanted to keep his six pack, but he had to do it slow so Mickey wouldn’t notice and stop eating too.

“Seriously?”Mickey asked, incredulous.

“I saw _Sweeney Todd_ in London.”Ian explained.He had been very skeptical, much like Mickey was now, but it had been an awesome show.

Mickey made a noncommittal sound around another bite of cake.

“Or there’s this shooting range I know about we could go to.”Ian suggested knowing Mickey would pounce on the idea.

He was not disappointed.“Cool.Let’s do that.”

“It’s a date then.”Ian smiled.


	23. Pushing It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER HAS BEEN EDITED: I’ve rewritten a section of this chapter in response to some very valid constructive criticism I received about my handling of Terry’s homophobia. I fell into a common, but ultimately false narrative that most homophobes are themselves homosexual. This is not true. I knew that before I wrote it, but for some reason went with it anyway since it felt like a Shameless thing to do. I felt a little weird about it before I posted it which is another lesson learned - if it feels wrong, don’t post it. Figure out why and fix it. 
> 
> Anyway, my apologies for the offensive trope. It is corrected.

In the car on the way home Ian kissed him.

Mickey discovered being side by side was a much better position for him.It was awkward, sure, but it limited the ease with which they could touch each other.It made it more deliberate and less desperate.In truth, he felt like he had more control. 

Ian was keeping his hands to himself, limiting his touches to chest and above.Mickey had never had to tell him to do that.Somehow Ian just seemed to know.

Mickey on the other hand did not limit himself.He ran his hands over Ian’s chest and down the washboard of his abdomen.He squeezed thick arms and sturdy thighs.The one area he avoided he could look at if he wanted to. 

When he did look he was disappointed.Mickey was hard as a rock and uncomfortable in his too big trousers, but it didn’t look like Ian was into it at all which was weird since Ian had him by almost three inches in the dick department.Hiding his arousal was not an easy thing for a guy as hung as Ian.

Mickey pulled back from the kiss and asked, “You not into this, fire crotch?” 

“What?”Ian asked sounding drunk as he shifted in his seat and reached down to adjust himself.

Mickey’s gaze followed Ian’s hand and then rose to meet confused green eyes.He glanced back down again.

“Oh.” Ian breathed as he caught on.He made another adjustment and explained.“Compression underwear.”

“The fuck?” Who in his right mind would want to compress his junk?

“I have to be pretty picky about what I wear.I’m fine in cargos and casual clothes, but anything form fitting tends to show more shape than most people think is socially acceptable.”

“Not a problem I have.”Mickey shrugged. That this could even be a problem had not occurred to him.

“Lucky you.There are some pretty terrible pictures out there from before I figured out how to camouflage better.”

Now he got it. During his forced downtime, Mickey had done a lot of web surfing.He had seen some of those dick print photos which left little doubt that Ian was built like a porn star.He was even on some of the hung celebrity lists.

Mickey remembered vividly how one minute teenage Ian would be flaunting the thing, like in the clubs where that big dick earned him extra attention, and then the next minute he would be bent over trying to hide it like he was embarrassed. 

“Just so we’re clear, you are turned on right now, right?”Mickey asked. 

“Oh, hell yeah.” Ian confirmed with a nod of his head. The palm of his hand pressed hard into the fly of his jeans.“These shorts are uncomfortable as fuck, but I didn’t think you’d be okay with me just whipping it out.”

Mickey thought about that.He remembered Ian’s dick as a thing of beauty; long, beer bottle thick with a slight upward curve.Since then he had seen probably hundreds more, open prison showers leaving nothing to the imagination, and a few of them way too up close.He would love to replace those images in his head with more than just memories of Ian’s magnificent cock, but he didn’t know if that would work how he wanted.It could backfire. 

As Mickey was debating, Ian settled back in his seat and said, “We’re almost home anyway.”

“So you’re just done?”Mickey was not.

Ian turned his head and smiled.“Only if you are.”

“I’m not.”

Ian’s grin turned lascivious.“Good.”

The car pulled up in front of the house a few minutes later.Mickey got out and carefully made his way up the steps to the front door.He had proven that while slow, he could make it up one flight now. 

Ian bounded up the stairs behind him and pushed past him to stand in front of the door.He stared into the video camera by the door saying, “Hey, Mildred, I’m home.”

The lock clicked open. 

Mickey was on Ian the moment the door closed behind them, pulling his head down to resume their kiss from the car. Ian eagerly joined in.

“Let’s go to the couch.”Mickey breathed when Ian came up for air.

Ian didn’t say anything, he just started guiding them toward one of the royal blue sofas edging the huge room.

“This is okay?”Ian asked as they nearly fell into the plush velvet.

“Yeah.”Mickey agreed before pressing their lips together again.

Once again, Mickey’s hands roamed over Ian’s body while Ian confined himself to shoulders, neck and arms.Ian pulled back, “Fuck, Mickey.I gotta stop.”

“Why?”Mickey whined.

“This hurts, man.”Ian said pressing the palm of his hand hard into his groin.

Mickey was far enough gone he didn’t care anymore about whether or not seeing Ian’s dick would trigger him.“So free the beast.”

“Are you sure you’re okay with that?” 

Mickey looked at Ian.The man was fucking beautiful. His lips were red and slightly swollen from their kissing and his hair was a mess from Mickey’s hands.His shirt was partially unbuttoned and pulled free from his jeans.Mickey’s body tingled with want.He shrugged, “Won’t know until we try.”

Ian groaned. “Okay.”

Mickey started nibbling on Ian’s neck as Ian began unbuttoning his fly.He was mesmerized watching those long fingers as they pushed the denim aside revealing green briefs that looked way too tight.Mickey considered touching him. 

Ian pushed down the waistband and pulled his cock free with a relieved sigh.He was only semi hard, probably all that had been possible in the confines of compression underwear andjeans, but that was rapidly changing as Ian slowly stroked himself. 

“You okay?”Ian breathed into his ear and Mickey shuddered.

He wanted it to be pleasure, but it was anxiety. His heart rate escalated, his erection was dying, his side started hurting and he was fighting a strong urge to push Ian away. 

Watching Ian jerk off used to make Mickey’s mouth water in anticipation. 

His mouth was watering alright but it was nausea, not desire causing it.He tried to push it down, but the feeling of dread grew.The memories he tried so hard to hold back were bubbling up overshadowing the present. 

Mickey pushed Ian hard and stood up, knee barely supporting him.He backed away several steps, trying to rein in the desire to make a break for it. 

“Fuck!” He shouted.He knew Ian would not hurt him.He knew Ian love him.He remembered how good Ian had felt on him and inside him.He fucking knew these things, but somehow it just wasn’t enough.He pulled out the little pillbox and popped an Ativan.

Ian stood up too, hastily trying to get his pants back up.He looked at Mickey and opened his mouth to say something but Mickey cut him off.

“There is nothing you can say right now that will make this bullshit okay.It’s not fucking okay!This is completely fucked up and you know it!Fuck!”

“Okay, Mickey.” Ian said as he finished buttoning his fly.He looked defeated and it tore at Mickey’s soul. 

Mickey groped for words as Ian buttoned his shirt and smoothed his hair.None came.

Ian glanced at him.

Mickey couldn’t hold his gaze.He turned his eyes to the bar.He could use a stiff drink, something to deafen the buzz in his ears. 

Ian sighed and turned toward the stairs. “Thanks for going to dinner with me.”

Mickey should be used to watching Ian leave, he thought, feeling hopeless.He didn’t want things to be like this, but as Ian disappeared up the stairs his body started to calm down.The fear began to ebb, limbs twitching with residual adrenaline and growing heavier by the second.He rubbed at his face, refusing to let himself cry over this, but it was fucking awful.If it was just him, that would be one thing, but it was Ian too.

He didn’t deserve this bullshit.

***

Ian spent the night wide awake and restless.That was damn near impossible on his meds, but sleep just would not come.He gave up at five o’clock and got dressed to go run off as much of the stress as he could. It was all he could think to do.

The moment the door latch clicked open he heard Mickey say, “I need to talk to you.”

It startled him for a second, but then he took a seat next to Mickey on the stairs.“Okay.”

He wondered how long the brunet had been sitting there waiting for him.He had not expected to even see Mickey today, much less talk to him.He had known pulling out his dick was a bad idea, but good ideas were rarely conceived when contending with a semi in compression briefs.

All he could do now was apologize and hope it would be enough.

“I called Dr. Mo last night and told him what happened.”Mickey said without looking up.

Ian had thought about calling Dr. Brynner and confessing what an idiot he was and how much damage he had just done to their fledgling relationship, but in the end he had not.They would see each other in a few days anyway.“And I bet he said what I did last night was really, really stupid, right?”

“Nah,” Mickey disagreed with a shake of his head. “He told me to slow down though.He also said I need to tell you what’s happening in my head when I push you away so you understand.”

“You don’t have to.”Ian replied, wanting to put a hand on Mickey’s arm but feeling like he should not touch the other man.

Finally there was a flash of blue as Mickey glanced at him.“Believe me I don’t fucking want to, but if we’re gonna have a hope in hell of making this work, I do have to.”

Mickey sounded determined.Ian acquiesced.“Okay.”

“I’ve popped two Ativan to do this, so ride it out with me, okay?”

“Okay.”Ian agreed wishing maybe they could do this somewhere more comfortable than the stairwell, but it didn’t seem like the right time to ask.

Mickey shifted away from Ian, leaning his shoulder against the wall and turning his body very slightly away.His gaze remained focused on the stairs in front of him.“I, ah, I didn’t see it coming.Finally beating me to death, that I expected.I was waiting for it.It was different guys each time I got beat down and none of the guards would verify my dad was behind it so the Warden wouldn’t move me.He said I needed to do a better job keeping my head down or moving me wouldn’t make a difference anyway.

Never in a million years did I think my dad would do this to me.I mean, he’s as homophobic as they come, and he sat there and fucking watched it all.Barely even blinked.He watched seven guys...I think it was all seven...fuck...he watched them...”

“You don’t have to say it.”Ian said when Mickey fell silent.It was hard to hear, he could only imagine how much more difficult it was to have lived through.

“I do have to say it.I have to fucking say it.”Mickey snarled.“My fucking father watched a bunch of skinheads rape me.”

Ian couldn’t stand it.He wanted to pull Mickey into his arms, but knew he couldn’t.Instead he held out his hand, palm up.Mickey glanced at it, but didn’t take it which left Ian feeling silly, as if joined hands could somehow bridge over so much pain.

“They ah, they beat the shit outta me first.Broke my ankle so I couldn’t run.Broke my hip in three places.I hit my head.I guess I should be grateful for that shit since I don’t remember much after that, just flashes.”He chuckled darkly and rubbed at a spot just below his ribs.“I do remember the first guy.He was a ginger.I remember Terry saying I’d never look at you the same way again.”

“Jesus.” Tears sprang to Ian’s eyes and he wiped them away with the back of his hand, not wanting Mickey to see them.

“It’s like looking into a funhouse mirror or some shit.When we’re together it starts off so good but then something happens in my head and things get distorted and fucked up and...” He took a deep breath.“And once that happens, I lose it.It’s like being right back in the middle of it.When I have a panic attack, that’s what’s happening. I’m back in that room and I’ve just gotta get the fuck outta there.”

Holy fuck.Ian was struck by how counter productive everything he was doing had been.He was the trigger because Terry had had the foresight to drag him into Mickey’s nightmares.The cruelty of it was breathtaking.

Mickey continued, “Believe it or not they used to be way worse in prison.I thought about killing myself a lot. Since I got out, I wasn’t having them as much. It was easier not to think about, I guess.This really fucking sucks.”

“Oh, Mickey.”Ian breathed out, wanting to pull the smaller man into his arms, but afraid to touch him. 

Mickey shrugged.“Like you wouldn’t if you were me.”

Ian nodded.“I know what hopelessness feels like.”

For the first time, Mickey turned and really looked at him.He grabbed Ian’s hand and squeezed it hard.Ian squeezed back, grateful for the small physical connection and simultaneously angry at himself for needing it.He was supposed to be comforting Mickey, not the other way around. 

The corner of Mickey’s mouth quirked upwards in a very, very tiny smile.“I just want you to know that cliche ‘it’s not you, it’s me’, that shit’s true.Last night I wanted things to be normal so bad, I tried to force it and ended up making you feel like shit.I fucked up.”

“Can I say something?”

“Yeah.”

“I think you’re pushing yourself to be way more physical with me than you should be.”Mickey immediately opened his mouth to object, but Ian cut him off.“Wait.Let me finish.”

Mickey pressed his lips together, a sure sign of annoyance, but Ian disregarded it.He needed to say this.

“I love you.I have always loved you, but I’ve also put you through hell and I feel like maybe I’m doing it again.You said before that I never let you choose and you’re right.I’ve pushed, prodded and needled you into giving me what I want.I don’t want to do that any more.”Ian squeezed Mickey’s hand again.“I don’t want you to feel like if you don’t give me what you think I want I’ll leave you.I’m not going to leave you.I am going to pull back though.”

“Pull back?”Mickey’s brows furrowed and his gaze dropped.

Fuck, this thought had been brewing for a while.He and Dr. Brynner had been talking about what love really was and the part Ian latched onto was loving enough to let go.It didn’t mean he wanted to walk away from Mickey.Rather he wanted to let Mickey do the steering this time.“I want us to be friends.”

“You’re breaking up with me again?”Mickey asked, tone of voice defeated.

Oh no, that wasn’t what Ian meant.“No, no, Mickey.We aren’t a couple.Those are your words.You haven’t wanted to be. Maybe you will someday, maybe you won’t.That’s your choice.I love you no matter what.”

“But you don’t want to be with me.” Mickey’s voice was flat.

“So not true.I do want to be with you.What I don’t want is you thinking of some ginger skinhead rapist every time I touch you.” Should not have said that, Ian realized when Mickey flinched away from him, pulling his hand free. 

Ian was quick to try to explain himself. “That’s not your fault.That’s all Terry.But I’m the one who broke your trust.I have to earn it back.Triggering you over and over because you think sex is all that matters to me is not the way to do that.” 

Mickey finally lifted his eyes and stared at Ian for a long moment like he had grown a second head.“Cat’s outta the bag man, no going back.I just have to deal with it.I got no choice, but if this is too much for you, fine.Say the word. You either want to help do this my way or you can fuck right the hell off.I don’t have the...I can’t...fuck.”He trailed off.“Don’t do this to me again.”

They were absolutely not on the same page, that was for sure.Hoping he wasn’t digging a deeper hole for himself, Ian tried to clarify, “I’m the barnacle to your boat, Mickey.You’re gonna have to scrape me off to get rid of me.I just want you to be able to heal without feeling pressured for sex.”

“Then we do this my way.”Mickey said again, glaring at Ian as if daring him to contradict.

Obviously, Ian wanted to say, but he bit his tongue.“Okay, of course.” 

“I’m no one’s fucking victim.” Mickey declared, the fire in his eyes almost frightening in its intensity.“I’m getting my life back and you, if you love me like you say you do, are gonna help me.You’re going to push me as far as I can go and then you’re going to push me again and again until I take back everything that motherfucker tried to steal from me, you got it?” 

Taken aback by the vehemence with which Mickey was speaking, Ian asked, “This is what you and Dr. Mo talked about?”

“Fuck no.”Mickey brushed off the question.“He talked about feelings and talking more and going slower and blah, blah, blah.I don’t have time for that shit.”

Ian did.That had been his whole point.He wanted to give Mickey time.“But...”

Mickey grabbed Ian’s shoulder, squeezing painfully hard.“I want my life back.I want us back.”

“I want us back, too, but I’m not going to force you to...”

Mickey shoved Ian back when he released his grip and it was unclear if he was angry or teasing or something all together scarier.“You’re still not hearing me, man.”

“I’m trying to.”Ian protested.He really was, but this was not something Mickey could plow his way through.It would take time.

Mickey took a deep breath and spread his hands.“How we’ve been doing things, that’s what I want.I want to keep going.I want you to take back your rightful place in my spank bank.I know you think I’m reacting to you when I freak out, but I’m not.I just get stuck in a time loop that has fuck all to do with you.”

“Except I trigger it.”Ian clarified, feeling horrible again for looking like Mickey’s rapist.

“Anyone would trigger it, idiot.”

“I hate reminding you of a rapist.”Ian replied.

Mickey gave him a bitter smile.“I bet I hate it more than you do. The point is, we get a little farther every time.It gets a little easier.”

“For you maybe.” Ian muttered, then louder he said, “Last night, I felt so guilty.I get so into the moment...”

“Bullshit.”Mickey cut him off.“I remember you in the moment and it wasn’t any of this timid, gentle shit, not that I don’t appreciate the effort, because I do.I know it’s not easy for you.Fuck, I’d be dying if our roles were reversed.” 

“I’m still sorry.”Ian said.

“I’m not.” Mickey shrugged.With a wink he teased, “I got a glimpse of that monster cock I remember.”

“It’s not that big.”Ian demurred.

“Says the guy who needs special underwear to keep the viewing public from being overwhelmed by the power of his almighty penis.”

Ian snickered in spite of himself.“Fuck you, Mickey.”

“That’s the plan, fire crotch.”Mickey replied, pushing himself to his feet using Ian’s head.With a cheeky grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes, he left Ian on the stairs.“See ya after your run.”

***

“How are you, Ian?”

“I’m a fucking mess.”Ian said as he settled on Dr. Brynner’s couch.

Having heard him say this many times before she said, “Be more specific please.How are you a mess?”

“Okay.”She was asking about his bipolar. “I had one bad night, but otherwise I’m sleeping okay.I’m not pinging on anyone’s radar.I don’t feel off which is a fucking miracle given how stressed out I am.”

She wrote something in her notebook.“What are you stressed out about?”

“Mickey.”

She smiled and it was indulgent and bemused.“As I assumed.”

“He’s over the denial phase.”Ian said.

She nodded.“So he’s angry.”

“Oh yeah, but not at me.”Ian was quick to clarify.“It’s more like he’s really, really determined.”

“Determined to do what?”

“Get his life back.Since Thanksgiving he’s been on a tear.He’s cooking and eating like a maniac...”

“That’s good.You were worried he was starving himself.”

“Yeah, and he’s started working out more than just his PT.”He was not as maniacal about this, but it was only because he was limited by injury and a subsequent lack of energy.

She nodded.“Getting his physical strength back.”

“He told me the first guy who raped him was a ginger.Terry told him it was so he’d never be able to look at me again.”Ian blurted out.This was the part he really wanted to talk about anyway.

“Ah.I see.”She made another note in her book.

This was not at all what Ian wanted to hear.“That’s it?You see? It’s fucking bullshit.I mean, who does that?”

“A man who wants to humiliate and destroy his own son.”

“Why?That’s what I don’t get.Why would he do this?What parent would ever...”

She held out a hand to shush him.Calmly she said, “You’re working yourself up.This is a distressing thing to talk about, but indignation is not going to help.”

“It’s just so fucked up.”

“Yes, it is, but focusing on why doesn’t help.I would hazard a guess even Terry himself doesn’t quite know why.”

“That’s even more fucked up.”Ian exclaimed.

“He abused his children to keep them in line.He used fear to dominate and control them.It worked with his older sons but not with Mickey.He had to up the ante.Remember, rape is never about sex.It’s about control.When beatings didn’t get him what he wanted, he had Mickey raped.He made you watch so it would be clear to both of you who was really in control.Mickey subsequently avoided you and married Svetlana, having a son with her.Terry had control back.”

“Yeah.” God, that had been horrible.Ian didn’t want to dwell on it.

“Then time passed and you and Mickey reunited, Mickey came out and Terry lost control again.He immediately dove back into his old playbook, first seeking control through violence and when that didn’t work, resorted to rape again.”

“All he really had to do was kill me.”Ian had thought this for a while, but never said it out loud before.

“It’s not that simple.Leaving you alive leaves Mickey with the constant fear he will hurt or kill you.It’s the only leverage he has left.”

Ian had sort of figured that.It was fucked up and only added fuel to the burning hatred he felt for the man.“I’ve thought of about a million ways to have that man killed.”

“I’m sure many people have.”

“Why doesn’t Karma ever catch up with people like Terry?Why does it take all it’s shit out on people like Mickey?”

“I choose to believe in hell for precisely this reason.”Dr. Brynner offered him a wicked smile that swiftly fell into a concerned look.“I know you have security around you, but you still have to be vigilant.”

“I know.I am.”Ian nodded.“Can we go back to the trigger being a redhead?”

“Of course.How does that make you feel?”

“Like shit.”Ian said.It killed him to be a reminder of a rapist.

“I think anyone, no matter what he looked like, would trigger Mickey in an intimate situation.”

Mickey had said the same thing.Ian could acknowledge the truth in that, but it still upset him.He did not want to cause Mickey pain.“He says he wants me to keep pushing him.”

She made another note.“How do you feel about that?”

Ian thought back to the last moment they were intimate.He had been so relieved to be free of the confines of his underwear he had not noticed how it was effecting Mickey until the smaller man pushed him away and got up.The anguish on Mickey’s face had turned Ian’s insides to liquid.It had been horrible.The shame of pushing too far, of being rejected, it ate at him.“I hate it because I see how much he wants it, but I also see how much it hurts him.”

“If you decided you wanted to remove the sexual component from your relationship for now, what do you think he’d say?”She had made this suggestion before.

“I know what he’d say.We talked about it on Sunday.He says it’s not want he wants.He says he wants me to push him. He pointed out how far we’ve already come.I mean, he does have a point.Eight weeks ago he flinched away from a hand on his arm, now he’s really into making out.”

“After sexual trauma people tend to go one of two ways.They can become repressed sometimes to the point they never engage in sexual activity again.They can also become hyper sexual either because they think they are worth nothing else or in a bid to take back control of something they feel they’ve lost.”

Ian smiled.“He’s definitely going for the last option.”

“Sex was a big part of your former relationship.”

“It was kinda the only part for most of it.”Ian admitted.At the beginning they’d been little more than fuck buddies.It was only after Mickey got married and Ian ran away from the Armythey started behaving like a couple. “I’ve told him I love him enough to wait forever if I have to, but he’s really determined.”

“Because your history together tells him regardless of what you say, sex is very important to you.”

“Fuck, I know.”Ian bounced up out of his chair.It was his fault.“I know!”

“In spite of your best intentions, Ian, you have a disorder requiring vigilance and adjustment.Mickey saw you at your worst and at your worst sex drives a lot of very poor decision making for you.It is not unreasonable for him to think when you go manic again the same thing will happen.”

“It didn’t happen the last two times.”Of course, the last two times Ian had been able to see the signs before things got too far.People he trusted confirmed it and he went to Dr. Brynner immediately.His meds were tweaked and he got back on track.

She nodded and then elaborated on her point.“Mickey was not here to see those times, though.His frame of reference does not include your current support system or self regulation.”

Ian sat back down.“So what do I do?”

“I’ve spoken with Dr. Mohammed at length on this topic since as I’m sure you know this is also something he and Mickey discuss frequently.If this is truly what you want...”

“It is.”Ian said firmly. 

She smiled gently.“Then go slow.Mickey will push you for more because he wants this over with.He thinks if you can consummate this new relationship somehow all his problems will go away.”

“There’s a lot more to it than just sex though.”Ian replied.He was glad Mickey had authorized their doctors’ collaboration.Since Dr. Mohammed and Dr. Brynner were in this relationship with them, Ian had happily authorized them talking from his end.Anything that helped, Ian was down for.

“Exactly, but sex is what he’s focused on.It’s not wrong for him to want to reestablish physical intimacy.In fact, it’s encouraging, but it puts you in a very difficult position of trying to find the line between enough and too much which as you know is a moving target.”

“No shit.”Ian was very aware of that fact.

She cocked her head, watching him for a moment.“I worry this level of pressure will overwhelm you.”

Ian agreed.“I worry about that too, but I’m taking care of myself.I’m making sure I stick to my routine and get enough sleep. I’m taking my meds as scheduled, eating right and exercising.I’m not drinking or smoking or anything.If I’m feeling off, I’m doing my assessment.So far, so good.”

“Very good.I’m glad to hear it.”She said making another note in her journal.

“When he starts to freak out, he shakes.I’ve noticed that.”Ian offered, why he was not sure.He just needed her to know he knew when Mickey was nearing the end of his rope.

“So you stop when he starts shaking?”

“Sort of.”Ian shrugged.It was more complicated than that.

“That is not a good answer, Ian.You know consent can be withdrawn at any time during a sexual encounter.”

Oh no.That is not what he meant.Ian quickly justified himself.“He definitely makes it clear when consent has been revoked.I know when he starts shaking that’s about to happen, but I let him be the one to put on the breaks because he asked me to.”

She frowned and regarded him for a moment.“There may come a time when he pushes himself well past what is safe in an effort to just be done with this process.”

“I know.I can already see it coming.”

More notes, then a question.“What are you going to do?”

“I think we need to talk about it before we get there.We aren’t there yet.”

“How can you tell?”She asked.

“We aren’t even to the heavy petting stage yet.I don’t touch him at all, like nothing more than I would if I were just hugging one of my sisters.He touches me more than that, but this is a no fly zone still.”Ian indicated his groin.

“I see.”

“I figure the first time we’re going to run up on going too far will be when he forces himself to touch me.He made himself look at it Saturday night and that’s what started all this.”Ian could have predicted that, would have, if he had not been so turned on.Just like Ian, Mickey also had not been real happy with the results of Saturday night.“He feels bad about it.”

“How do you feel about it?”

“I hate that I trigger memories of a fucking rapist.” Ian repeated because that was just killing him, but, “Also, I feel like it was my fault.I made him think I wasn’t into kissing him.”

“How?”

“Compression briefs and jeans?”Why it came out as a question Ian did not know.

She cocked her head, clearly missing the point.

“I’m built a little big.”Ian said, missing the glory days when this was something he was supremely proud of rather than something he tried to hide.“It can look obscene in the wrong clothes, so I figured being out on a date some inappropriate wood was likely to happen and dressed accordingly.It didn’t occur to me Mickey might be looking for a reaction and when he didn’t see it he thought I wasn’t into him.”

Her eyebrows went up, but all she gave was her usual bland response.“I see.”

“So I explained and he looked at me like you are and then he said if it was so uncomfortable, which believe me it was, to just take it out.”Which had been stupid.

“And you did.”

“And he freaked out.”

“I see.”She said again.

“And then I freaked out because what the fuck was I thinking?I knew it was a bad idea and I did it anyway.I should have changed clothes first and then seen if he still wanted to make out.”

“Did you discuss this when you talked on Sunday?”

“Yeah,” They had, sort of.Ian had not thought of changing his clothes into something much less restricting until way too late.

“So you worked it out.”

“Yeah.”They had talked about it.There had been no further make out sessions, but the little touches had resumed so Ian felt better about the situation.

“That’s good.”Dr. Brynner nodded, making another note.

Ian knew they were nearing the end of their time and waited for her to tell him what she wanted him to do for the week but she just kept writing.Finally he cleared his throat and said, “So just continue on?”

“If this is still what you want, yes.Continue on.”She looked up at him gaging his response.

Ian felt like a weight came off his shoulders.He’d been expecting her to tell him he needed to back off.He had no idea how to explain it to Mickey though if she told him to cool it.He was immensely glad he did not have to have that conversation.

Dr. Brynner dismissed him saying, “Call me if you need me and I’ll see you next week.”


	24. New Suits and Other Good Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sooooo...just so people know, I went back and edited 23 after some very legit critique. It doesn’t require a reread per say, but just wanted readers to know the Terry story arc changed rather radically. It will be seamless in coming chapters.
> 
> I think a big part of improving, regardless of what you’re working on, is listening to constructive feedback and adapting when it’s warranted. Thus, just know I’m here to entertain you, but also to improve my writing skills. I’ve got a pretty thick skin and I’m willing to listen so please keep the feedback coming. I live for it. :)

Mickey woke to the sound of someone drilling.There was actually a lot of noise in the house now he was awake to hear it.

He climbed out of bed and made his way down to the kitchen where he found Mandy and a very handsome black man with a clip board talking over cups of coffee.He barged into their conversation asking, “What the fuck is going on?”

Mandy swung on him like she’d been expecting him.“Christmas, asshole, what does it look like?”

He had noticed the explosion of holly bows and ornaments on the landing and in the elevator.“Yeah, but it’s barely December.”

“No shit, Sherlock.” Mandy rolled her eyes at him as clip board man kept his attention focused on his coffee mug.“The Claymore holiday party is next weekend though so time to get pretty.”

“Fuck.”Mickey had forgotten about the party.

Mandy had not.“You said you’d go to this one, remember?”

“Yeah, yeah.” God damn it.Under the best of circumstances, Mickey was not a social animal.These were not those circumstances.“Not much for parties anymore, though.”

She rolled her eyes, but her smile was eager when she looked at him.“This will be unlike any party you have ever been to, trust me.”

“Shit.”Mickey groaned.He had never been to any of Mandy’s parties.He heard about them from her and he secretly followed them on social media because he wanted to see what she could do, but he had never been to one.

She looked him over critically.“You’re gonna need some new clothes for the party.You’re skinny as fuck right now.”

Whatever thoughts he might have been entertaining about maybe going instantly hardened into refusal.He looked like death and he was not getting photographed with Ian looking like a pity date from Make a Wish.Decision made, he said, “Nah, I’ll just stay in my room.”

“Ah, no.You won’t.”She poked him hard in the ribs.“Ian’s been looking forward to introducing you to his team.”

Mickey slapped her hand away and glared at clip board guy who had the nerve to chuckle.“Well, I don’t want to meet his fucking team.”

Clip board man snorted and Mandy joined Mickey in glaring at him.He had the good sense to make an excuse and head back down to the first floor.Mandy then turned the full fire of her cold blue eyes on her brother.“Seriously, Mickey.You can’t go to one stupid party?”

“I’ll still be here.”He would just be on the fourth floor, in his room, watching TV.

“That’s not the same and you know it.” She snapped, then she took a deep breath and changed tacks.“Look, I know this chick who’s a stylist at Macy’s.I can hook you up with her, okay?Trust me, Bella can make even your skinny white trash ass look good.”

Great, even Mandy thought he looked like death.If he’d had even the slightest inclination to go to the party before it died right there.“I said I’m not going.”

“Not going where?”Ian asked as he ambled down the stairs and into the kitchen.

Mandy made a dismissive gesture at Mickey.“He’s refusing to go to Macy’s to get some new clothes for your party Saturday.”

“Oh.No problem.My tailor’s coming by this afternoon anyway.”Ian told them as he grabbed a glass bottle of water from the fridge.

“Why?”Mickey asked, suspicion making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

Ian turned and looked him dead in the eye.“Because he finished the alterations on some clothes for me.Maybe he can make something for you, too.”

“Huh.”

“Or there’s Bella at Macy’s.”Mandy offered.

Mickey noted how Mandy and Ian were not looking at each other.Ian’s chin was jutting a little and Mandy looked way too calm.“You two totally conspired against me again didn’t you?”

Both of them broke out in huge smiles.Ian chirped, “Yep.”

“Assholes.”Mickey groused.They always ganged up on him.

Ian came over and clapped Mickey on the shoulder, squeezing, “Look, I know you hate parties and meeting new people and to show my gratitude I thought I’d get you something killer to wear.”

“So I don’t embarrass you, you mean.”Mickey shot back.He meant it to sound sarcastic, but even in his own ears it sounded defensive.

“Show up naked if you want.I still won’t be embarrassed.”Ian shrugged.“Besides, you wouldn’t be the first nude guy at one of these.”

“I hate you both.”Mickey harrumphed, giving in.

“But you’re gonna love your new suit.”Ian winked at him.

***

Turned out Mickey did love the new suit. 

It was a very deep, almost purple blue, the shirt was a slightly lighter shade of the same blue and even he thought it brought out the color of his eyes.The orange tie and pocket square added pops of color that pulled the look together.

There were some fit issues, but the tailor, Rudolpho, had taken a ton of measurements and promised to have it ready by Friday. 

Because Mandy also had to participate in treating him like a fucking dress up doll, her friend Bella came through with some really nice shoes and a belt.Both Ian and Mandy insisted the clothes were early Christmas presents when he tried to pay for them.It made him uncomfortable but arguing with either of them was pointless.

Weirdly, the new clothes made Mickey feel better about life in general.Even if he wasn’t skinny as fuck right now, he had never thought he could look like he did in that suit.It was surreal, but good somehow.He questioned it for a nanosecond and then decided to just roll with it.It was not often he felt this good.

With the renewed shot of energy he made arrangements for a car to take him to his regular barber to get his hair cut which added to the upswing in his mood.It felt like maybe things were getting back to normal.

The next day he went to an actual grocery store with Ian rather than ordering online for delivery.Ian pushed the cart and they had a good time finding the ingredients for the meals Mickey planned to make.It was very domestic and couple-like and on the one hand he fucking loved it and on the other it scared the shit out of him.

Mickey had taken Ian’s car service to Dr. Mohammed’s office for their most recent visit.It was a surprisingly good session. Dr. Mohammed was glad he had finally shared the worst of his experience with Ian but they didn’t dwell on it. 

Instead they spent most of the session talking about the after effects of abuse and neglect and how those things created a sense of worthlessness and a tendency toward self sabotage.It was pretty much exactly what Mickey had needed to hear because he didn't feel like he belonged in his own life sometimes and the urge to crush it back into something he understood was ever present.It was good to talk through it again.

He also bit the bullet and made an appointment with Dr. Gonzalez for the 27th to get his knee fixed.It was a further six to eight week recovery period before he would be cleared to go back to the office, but the rehab for his hip had stalled because of his knee. 

At night when he took the brace off to sleep, it ached.He had to put the brace back on just to get up to go piss.It felt too wobbly to manage the 10 steps from bed to bathroom without giving out.Even with the brace on it felt unstable. 

Conversely, his hip felt pretty good.It didn’t hurt much anymore unless he was working it during PT and that was the good kind of hurt that came from working out.The physical therapist had tried to help him transition to a cane, but the knee just did not bear enough weight to make it safe.He was stuck on the crutches until his knee was rehabbed.

Mickey had been building a nest egg and it bothered him having eaten into it for the medical insurance deductible.On disability he couldn’t really start paying it back yet since he was still paying rent and utilities on an apartment he had not set foot in for almost two months and would not for at least two more.

Mickey floated the idea of working from home again to his boss. 

He had already talked it over with Dr. Gonzalez.After the surgery there would be at least one week of narcs to get through and then Dr. Gonzalez had agreed to let him go on intermittent FMLA and start back to work at 20 hours per week and increase it as he thought safe until Mickey’s rehab was completed.

Tom promised to talk to Clive about it again because he agreed it really was in both their best interest to get Mickey back to work. 

It turned out absence did make the heart grow fonder.In the months Mickey had worked for the firm, he had brought a level of expertise they had not known they were lacking until Mickey was gone again.

Mickey and Ian had a good laugh over his ‘expertise’.Who knew a criminal history could be so valuable?

All in all, things were looking up.

***

A few days later Mickey stood in what was now his office and looked around.It was on the third floor next to Ian’s office on the front side of the house. 

Mickey had suggested a card table and a few cardboard boxes would be sufficient, but in his typical fashion, Ian went all out. 

The room had been empty before.Ian called it extra closet space though Mickey thought it looked more like a would be nursery.Ian laughed when he said that though.Why would a single gay man have something like that?

Mickey shrugged it off.If the house was big enough for servants quarters and a catering kitchen it sure as shit had a nursery in it somewhere, but whatever.Ian could be very weird sometimes. 

The new office was centered by a huge desk in an Art Deco style similar to all the other furniture in the house.It had an antique accountant’s lamp with a green glass shade sitting on it which Mickey thought was a nice touch.

Off to the left there were some bookshelves, tastefully arranged with stuff that was not Mickey’s and books he had never read.In front of them were two oxblood leather chairs.On the right wall was a huge TV with ornate, probably antique filing cabinets underneath.To Mickey it was another page from Home and Gardens, beautiful, impersonal and ultimately uncomfortable. 

Mickey was resisting the urge to personalize.If he moved any of his shit in, it would be like he was claiming the room as his own.He didn’t want to give Ian the idea he was going to stay.

The computer on the desk was basically just for show for now until Ethan and Clive worked out their shit.The impasse they had reached the last time talk of Mickey working from home had been raised was nothing compared to the brawl they were currently engaged in. 

Mickey knew very little about computers and networks, but he did know Ethan was lightyears beyond Clive.Where Clive excelled was in the ego department as he kept trying to insist he knew better than Ethan how to set up and harden a network, whatever the fuck that meant.

Ethan was a 24 year old prodigy who had spent eight years in prison for hacking into some governmental something or other he was not allowed to talk about or even reference.He had been 12 at the time but was tried and convicted as an adult.Whatever he had done, it had to have been pretty huge.His rap sheet said only he was convicted of cyber crimes.Mickey was surprised the guy was allowed to work in IT at all.

Ian had met him through a friend of a friend before Claymore took off and hired him on as his Chief Security Officer and lead designer on a number of non-game related projects.So far, they had never been hacked.Ethan had also built Mildred, the AI smart home app powering Ian’s house and the Claymore offices among a few other places.The thing was fucking brilliant and reminded Mickey of Jarvis from Iron Man. Garry loved him.Ian said he would trust Ethan with his life. 

Clive was the son of one of Tom’s business partners.Period.No other pedigree.

Mickey had met him back when he started with the company and thought the guy was an asshole.The feeling was mutual.Clive was not on board with Mickey’s ‘expertise’.Rather he treated Mickey like a criminal.It was a much more familiar feeling for Mickey than being looked up to as an expert but it still pissed him off. 

He had no adult record and his juvenile record was sealed.Of the two of them Mickey thought Clive was the real criminal since he was trying to pass himself off as a security guy when according to Ethan there were security holes in his network big enough for an elephant to lumber through.

Ethan was even talking about feeling ethically bound to inform Wolfe, Pratt and Stevens that Clive Pratt was an idiot and they were going to get their asses sued off for insufficient data protection when, not if, they got hacked.

None of that was really Mickey’s problem though and he sure as hell wasn’t dumb enough to throw one of the partners’ sons under the bus.

No work would be happening until after the new year anyway, but it was nice to be a little closer to having something to do.

He closed the door behind himself and made his way down to the kitchen.

Ian was out on his run and Mickey had not seen Mandy since all the decorations had gone up.She was buried under a mountain of holiday parties and studying for her finals.

Mickey made himself an omelet leaving out the veggies he had chopped and the bacon he had cooked so Ian could make himself one when he got back from his run.

After wolfing down his breakfast Mickey went up to the gym and got to work.

He was in the worst shape of his life.He felt scrawny and weak which he didn’t like.He looked like an easy target and he was.That had to change pronto.He was forcing himself to eat more and to do more than just his PT when he was in the gym now.He could at least do upper body and core stuff.

A while later Ian walked in holding a plate.“Thanks for the veggie scramble.”

“You still can’t flip an omelet?”Mickey teased.

Ian smirked.“Apparently not.”

“You’re hopeless.”Mickey snarked back.

“Thank God I have you to feed me then.” 

“Yeah, aren’t you lucky.”Mickey was smiling though.“What’re you up to today?”

Ian ate the last bite of his eggs and put the plate down on top of a workout bench.“I’ve got meetings all day so I won’t be back until around four.”

“Okay.”Mickey nodded.Once again there was nothing for him to do.As much as he loved Torchlight and as fun as it was playing with his new online gaming friends, he was still bored as hell.

Ian walked into the room and bent over Mickey who was sitting on the lat machine.He inhaled deeply before planting a kiss on Mickey’s sweaty neck.“Jesus, you smell good.”

Mickey swatted him away.“I stink.”

“I love you.”Ian said with a smile before turning around and heading for the door pulling his shirt up over his head as he went clearly headed to the shower. There was a new tattoo on his right shoulder that Mickey couldn’t quite make out. It was Japanese, that was all he could tell at a glance.

Ian didn’t wait for Mickey to say anything which Mickey was getting really tired of.Since their date and the exposed penis moment, Ian had been very cautious.Mickey was over it.Ian was not.It was getting fucking old.

“Hey, Ian?”Mickey called after him.

Ian turned around and Mickey’s mouth fell open.Ian had showed him his abs one night and Mickey had had his hands on him through his clothes, but damn. 

Mickey swallowed and his dick twitched.

“Yeah?”Ian asked, leaning on the door frame. 

Holy fuck, he was hot.“Holy fuck, Ian.You are...I mean...wow.”

A slow grin creeped over Ian’s face and one of his long fingered hands ran across his abdomen. 

“You like what you see?”Ian purred, shifting his weight slowly onto the other hip changing the way the light hit him.The play of light on Ian’s milky white skin cast shadows across the flat planes and muscular angles of his body.The dusting of red hair on his chest and leading down to the waist band of his running pants glowed like fire.

“Yeah.”Mickey very much liked what he was seeing.He remembered a time when he thought Ian was way too focused on his body and acted like it was the only thing giving him any value, but if this is what a decade of working out could do, Mickey needed to get on his game.

He was getting hard and glad he was sitting so Ian couldn’t see it.

Ian reached down and adjusted, Mickey’s eyes followed. 

“Compression undies again?”

“Yeah.”Ian replied and then smirked.“Wasn’t planning on getting a hard on while running.”

“Whatever happened to good old boxers?”That was what Mickey wore and what Ian used to wear.

Ian shrugged and the play of muscles was beautiful.“I think I’d rather not get hit with an obscenity charge when I go running past the playground everyday.”

“The things you worry about.”Mickey shook his head with a chuckle.

Ian was not amused.He crossed his arms over his chest.“There are pictures on the internet that don’t leave much to the imagination.I’m not trying to add to the internet porn, okay?”

“Says the guy who actually did a porno.”Mickey snarked. 

Ian looked seriously pissed for a moment and then chuckled.“I must have really sucked because it never got released.At least I’ve never seen it and, trust me, I’ve hunted for that shit.”

There was a very good reason no one had ever seen it.“Or someone went back to the club and told that geriatric pervert you were only 16.”

The mirth left Ian’s face.“You did that?”

“Fuck yes, I did that.”Mickey had been monumentally pissed when Ian came home with $600 and told him he had earned it doing porn.Bareback, no less.

It had been the final straw.Mickey had no choice but accept Ian was suffering from a mental illness and was a danger to himself.When he confronted Ian, the redhead had run away with Yevgeny.Trying to find them, he had searched everywhere he knew Ian went multiple times.On his second trip to the Fairy Tail he overheard an older man solicit one of the other dancers for a movie. 

So many emotions had been balled up inside him it had been cathartic to let loose on the old pervert.Just thinking about it brought the anger back. 

While Mickey was working himself into an indignant rage, Ian was retreating.He sat down on the weight bench next to his empty plate.“You didn’t have to give him his money back did you?”

“What?Fuck no.I beat the shit out of him and made him give me $1500 and the SD card to keep me from going straight to the cops.”Which Mickey never would have done, but he had seriously considered murdering the guy.The terrified bastard had coughed up the cash and card so fast he had almost been able to hear the sonic boom.“Didn’t you ever wonder why you never saw that scumbag again?He left Boys Town.”

“I was too far gone to wonder about much back then.”Ian said in a small voice. “I’m sorry you had to do that.”

Mickey finally caught on to Ian’s mood.He hadn’t meant to make Ian feel bad.He had intended to make Ian realize the porn was not something he had to worry about.The SD card had been burned.Given the amount of time that had passed and Ian’s recent celebrity, if there had been copies they should have turned up by now.“Nah, I’m sorry I didn’t get you help sooner.I just didn’t understand what was going on with you.”

“I wouldn’t have taken it anyway.”Ian replied looking dejected.Just as Mickey was about to say something else, Ian took a deep breath and forced a smile.“Thank you for watching out for me.That could have been really embarrassing.”

“The only person who gets to embarrass you is me.”Mickey joked trying to lighten Ian’s mood and get a real smile out of him.Ian shook his head and snorted but he still looked unhappy.Mickey changed the subject. “Ready for the party tonight?”

“Yeah.Are you?”

“Nah, man.”Mickey replied honestly.He wished he had chosen a different subject.He did not want to go to Ian’s party.Block parties, family gatherings, he could do those, but he didn’t want to be on display as Ian’s boy toy.

“It’s a fun bunch of people.”Ian said.

“Do they know about me?”Mickey asked.It seemed a valid question after meeting that Johnny guy.He really, really did not want everyone to think he was Ian’s boyfriend.He wasn’t Ian’s boyfriend, not yet.Maybe never.He didn’t know.

“Not really.”Ian shrugged.

Ian was a terrible liar, but an awesome omitter.Mickey was instantly suspicious.“Define ‘not really’.”

“At the very least they’re going to assume you’re my date.”Ian observed with a shrug. 

Of course people would assume they were dating.Mickey wasn’t stupid, but that was a very evasive, very Ian sort of answer.Mickey interpreted it to mean at least some of the people at the party knew they had been a thing in the past.“This is why I don’t want to go.”

“Because you don’t want to be my date?”Ian asked, skewering him with a sharp eyed stare.

Mickey hated it when Ian looked at him like that.It always felt like an ultimatum.Being Ian’s date wasn’t a big deal.It was the assumptions he was worried about.“Because I don’t want people to assume we’re back together when we’re not.”

Ian’s eyebrows scrunched in confusion.“So what?Let’s just have fun and not worry about what other people think.”

“How will you feel if this doesn’t work out?”

“We aren’t there yet.”Ian said, standing.Mickey thought Ian did it on purpose so he could see what he would be missing out on by being obstinate about defining their relationship.

“But...”

“The same is true for any relationship anyone has, Mickey.There’s always the risk it won’t work out.”Ian replied, frowning down at him. 

The instinct to give in and just go to the fucking party was strong.He had grown up in a very black and white world where every decision was all or nothing and the consequences of choosing wrong were extreme.Ian had noticed that early and had used it to get Mickey to do what he wanted him to do.Mickey and Dr. Mohammed talked about it often. 

So here he was, ready to give in because please don’t leave me, but Dr. Mohammed had told him over and over they had to reset their normal and he couldn’t let Ian get away with this anymore.If he didn’t want to do something he had the right to say no and Ian, if he loved him, would respect that. 

Apparently it took him too long to respond because Ian sighed. “Look, if you don’t want to come, don’t. No one knows you’re coming anyway.”

With that, Ian turned around and left the gym.His spine was straight and Mickey would bet his chin was jutting.Ian was pissed.Mickey felt his heart sink and he wanted to run after Ian and tell him he’d go to the fucking party, but no.He wasn’t going to do it.He was going to ride out this feeling of dread and trust Ian would come back to the table to negotiate.

It sucked though.“Fuck.”

***

Mandy had been feeling really good about Ian’s holiday party.The house was decorated to perfection, there were servers dressed as elves, a mash up of the holidays and _The Lord of the Rings_ , each themed for a different celebration during the holiday season.Hors d’oeuvres and cocktails were also representative of those varied celebrations.It was a typically inclusive sort of thing for Ian to do.

It was a semi formal affair, with men wearing suits and women wearing a range from cocktail dresses to evening gowns.Mandy was wearing a black floor length dress with a low back and lots of bold lace details.It was fucking gorgeous and she felt amazing in it. 

People were dancing, drinking, talking and generally having a good time.

Her night was going pretty well until she realized Ian looked like he was upset and trying to hide it.Then she noticed her idiot brother was nowhere to be seen.

She stomped up the stairs and paused on the landing in front of the closed and locked fire doors. “Mildred, I’m going to my room.”

“As you wish, Mandy.”The doors unlocked. 

As expected Mickey was sitting on his bed playing Torchlight.For a moment she considered murdering him.“You are such an asshole.”

“Fuck off, Mandy.I don’t need your shit.”He snapped back, not taking his eyes off his game.

Mandy marched over to the TV and unplugged it. “No.You get fucking dressed and come down stairs.Now.I mean it.Do _not_ make me baton your ass.”

Mickey glared at her as he swung his legs off the bed, grabbed his crutches and moved toward the TV as if she was going to let him plug it back in.

She blocked him and glared down at him from her stiletto created height advantage.“Don’t you dare do this to him.He was so excited about tonight.” 

She poked him hard in the chest when he tried again to get around her.“Don’t fuck this up, Mikhailo Milkovich.”

“Why is it always about Ian with you?”He snarled.“Are you ever, even once, gonna think about taking my side?”

Mandy had heard this from him before.She was on his side, though he would never see it.It was plain as day how much he loved Ian.His self sabotage was just as obvious.“When your side isn’t an idiot, sure.Why not?”

He made one last try to get past her and then gave up, returning to his bed and sitting heavily on the side.“I don't want to meet all those people, Mands.”

“So instead you’d rather let Ian drown out there pretending to be happy when he obviously isn’t?”She asked.It was not only clear to her, but probably to the rest of the Claymore staff that Ian was faking his smile and forcing himself to at least appear to be having a good time.No one liked to see him like that because everyone feared what might come next.

Apparently Mickey did too.He looked up at her.“Obviously?”

“He’s nothing but a jutting jaw and a fake smile right now.”She replied and to dig it in a little deeper she also informed him, “He’s on his second cocktail, too.”

Mickey’s gaze fell to the floor.

Mandy waited a moment longer for him to say something, but he didn’t.Beyond annoyed with her brother and concerned while she was up here trying to talk sense to an idiot the party might be falling apart without her guidance Mandy took a parting shot at Mickey on her way out. “You know what?Forget it.If you’re too big of a pussy to stand by your man, you don’t deserve him.”


	25. Holiday Party from Hell

Mickey stood on the first floor landing for a moment just looking at the fresh hell he was about to dive into. 

He still didn’t want to do this, but it worried him to hear Ian was that upset. 

When he found Ian in the crowd, Mickey knew Mandy had not lied to him.Ian did look upset.He was trying to be gracious, but Mickey could see it was a struggle.There was a half drunk something or other in his hand.If that was a third cocktail tonight was going to get very interesting and not in a good way.

Mickey sighed and began threading his way through the crowd of Claymore employees until he was beside Ian.He put a hand on Ian’s arm and said, “Hey, sorry I’m late.”

Ian immediately turned and his face lit up.He put an arm around Mickey’s shoulders and exclaimed, “You came!”

“Yeah.”Mickey ducked his head to hide a blush.People were staring.“Mandy threatened me with her baton.”

Ian took a step back and looked him over.“You look great.”

Mickey ignored the compliment focusing on how fantastic Ian looked.He was wearing an exquisitely cut three piece suit in very dark green with a blood red tie and coordinating pocket square.He looked Christmasy and every one of his many million bucks.

A tiny woman with blue hair and a nose ring approached them.Smiling hugely she asked Ian, “Are you going to introduce us?”

In fact, Mickey’s arrival had drawn the attention of a lot of people, including Svetlana who took it upon herself to make the introductions.“This is Mickey Milkovich, ex-husband to me and father to Yevgeny.He is also boyfriend to our carrot.”

“Um, thanks, Svet.”Ian said, blushing bright red and eluding Mickey’s eye as he turned to glare at his ginger menace.Fuck, that was one hell of an introduction and exactly what Mickey had not wanted to happen.

“You’re Mickey? Wow!”The blue haired woman exclaimed before shouting to a group of people over by the bar.“Hey guys, this is Mickey!”

Immediately all eyes were on them.It was taking literally everything in Mickey not to bolt.He was simultaneously angry, scared, and weirdly elated. 

“ _The_ Mickey?”One of the approaching horde asked loudly.

“Yeah, the Mickey.”The blue haired woman said, smiling like she has just found her missing puppy or something.Ian squeezed his arm. 

Another person Mickey had never met but who apparently knew him said, “Holy hell is it good to see you two back together.”

Ian finally found his voice and sternly said, “Hey, miscreants, leave Mickey alone.Let the man breathe.”

It was not to be.The group of people around them was expanding.The blue haired woman moved to his other side and hooked an arm around Mickey’s apparently oblivious to the crutch he was using to stay upright.“I’m Alexa Farmington, CFO at Claymore.That’s Mark, VP of marketing.This is Sven, our head accountant, I bet you two could share some stories.” 

The blue haired woman kept going on and on putting faces to names Mickey had heard from Ian.Somewhere along the line, Ian had let go of his arm and Mickey felt abandoned as if he had been marooned on a island full of cannibals.

It got a little better after someone put a beer in his hand.

Sort of better anyway.Everyone and their pet cat wanted to meet him which was just fucking weird and also annoying since Ian had clearly lied to him about people knowing who he was.

Every time Mickey glared in the ginger idiot’s direction, Ian would shrug his shoulders and smile, smug bastard.

Finally Ian made his way back to Mickey’s side just as he was explaining for at least the 50th time what a forensic accountant did.Ian’s arm slipped around him, holding on a little lower down Mickey’s back than was usual. 

Then Ian leaned in and kissed the side of his head.This Mickey was less pleased by since it made him feel like Ian was pissing on him to mark his territory.He shoved the taller man away from him, glaring.

He had been flirted with by several people since Ian had left his side, so it was sort of inevitable, but he still didn’t like it.He could hold his own.

Then a very pretty black woman started clinking her glass with a spoon hard enough Mickey thought she would break it.“Everyone? Everyone, our dear leader has an announcement to make, if you could all gather around.”

Ian turned to face the group, dragging Mickey along with him.With the hand not on Mickey’s back he gestured wide and silence fell.“So, this was another killer year at Claymore.You guys know the stats from the company meeting so I won’t bore you with those again. 

Instead, I want to let you know that your profit sharing checks are being deposited tonight at midnight.So happy Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanza, Solstice and Festivus for the Rest of Us.”

A cheer went up from the crowd. 

Ian held out a hand for quiet as the elevator expelled a huge group of people and a bunch more came storming down the stairs to join the rest of the group.Ian made a sweeping gesture towards the left side wall up high and shouted, “Let’s review the year’s finer moments, shall we?”

“Claymore for the win!”Someone else called and the group laughed.

Another person, close enough not to need to shout, clapped Ian on the shoulder and said, “Best speech ever, dear leader!”

“What’s with the dear leader shit?”Mickey asked, the only reference he had for ‘dear leader’ being North Korea which made him wonder if it was actually an insult. 

“No idea.It’s like you and all the red head slurs.”Ian shrugged it off like it was no big deal.He pointed at the wall which was now highlighted by old fashioned reel guides.“Watch the video.You’ll learn a lot about us.”

It was like the gag reel from a movie.It was mainly security camera footage and it was fucking hilarious like a one company episode of America’s Funniest Home Videos.Given the nature of the footage, Mickey wondered how many of the people featured were going to be massively embarrassed.He leaned in to Ian and said softly, “You are really gonna piss some people off.”

Ian leaned down and in a low voice said, “Nah, HR got consents from each and every one of the people up there.In the last four years making the company gag reel has become a competition.Half of this shit is staged.”

“Really?”Mickey asked, surprised people would deliberately humiliate themselves.

“Yeah, but I’m not supposed to know that.As long as no one gets hurt, I don’t care.It’s fun.”

His ex-wife walked past, brushing a hand over his shoulders and on Ian’s arm as she passed on her way to the bar.Mickey was still stinging from her introduction.“Svetlana is a cold hearted bitch.”

Ian disagreed.“Nah, she just didn’t want the rumor mill to get started.I’ve known her long enough to know she’s always got a reason.”

Mickey was well aware of this feature of his ex-wife.Things might be going well between them and for the sake of his son he would endeavor to keep it that way, but Svetlana was not to be trusted.She would always put herself first.“Yeah, you should watch that.”

“Like everyone else here she was just looking for somewhere to belong, Mickey.She was trying to carve out a safe place for herself.Granted, she could be pretty shitty about it, but now she’s using her powers for good.”

“At least she’s got you thinking she is.”

“Nah, she’s got all the shit people want; money, position, and influence.For someone who comes from where she comes from that shit matters.But more than that she wanted a place to belong, a family, and to know she matters.She’s got that now.No reason to rock the boat.”

Mickey could argue, but decided against it.Ian sounded way too certain of himself.Rather he changed the subject.“Huh.Where’s Garry?Pretty sure he’s the only person at Claymore I haven’t fucking met yet.”

“Oh, he never comes to these things.He has really bad social anxiety so stuff like this is pure torture for him.He watches the gag reel though and we stream footage from the party to him. That’s what that lady over there is doing.That’s his mom, Mary.”Ian gestured toward an older woman with a gray pixie cut, wearing a blue dress.She had a camera out and the couple in front of her was talking and waving at the lens.

“Oh.”She was attractive, slim and had a great smile, but she was definitely a member of AARP. “She’s not exactly a spring chicken.”

Ian nodded and waved at her, calling her over.“Garry’s her youngest son.He’s 32.Her oldest is 45.”

“So she’s what, 70?”Mickey asked.Somehow her age was really concerning to him.What happened to Garry if she died?

“Hey Mary, this is Mickey.”Ian said when she approached him. 

Her face lit up.“ _The_ Mickey?”

“Apparently.”Mickey shrugged.He had gotten this reaction all night so it was no longer new though it remained very annoying.He and Ian were going to have to have a talk about this.

“Garry will be so happy to finally meet you.”She held out a hand.

Mickey took it and wondered how Garry was going to meet him when he was not at the party.“Yeah?”

“Oh yes, ever since Ian told him about you he’s been wondering when he would get to meet you.He’s sort of in love with his idea of you two together.”

The way she said it, like they were a couple again, pissed Mickey off.They weren’t, not by a long shot.Still, looking into her kind, happy face, Mickey could not say any of the snarky things that first sprang to mind.Instead he shrugged, “So no pressure there.”

She put a hand on his arm and squeezed.“Oh, please don’t feel that way.My son just wants Ian to be happy.”

“So I’ve got some competition.” Mickey was not someone who easily warmed to people or trusted on instinct, but there was something about Mary that made him mushy on the inside.He liked her and wanted her to like him.

“Nah, Garry doesn't think of me that way.He likes girls.”Ian said, apparently taking Mickey’s joke seriously.The arm that had taken up near permanent residence over Mickey’s shoulders squeezed him in against Ian’s body.Then he asked Mary, “Did he like the gag reel?”

She sighed and shook her head.“I don’t think he’s seen it yet.He’s buried himself in that new game idea you gave him.I can hardly get him to eat or go to sleep.”

“Need me to step in?”Ian asked.It was obvious to Mickey this was not the first time they had had this conversation.

“No, not yet.I’m going to head out soon and we’ll see how it goes.”She demurred.She looked sad for a moment but shook it off with a smile before she returned her focus to the camera.She raised it and turned to Mickey. “Mickey would you be willing to say something to him?”

“Like what?”Mickey ducked away, hiding behind Ian as much as he could.He hated being on camera.

“Like hi and looking forward to meeting you, I’ve heard great things about you. Be upbeat and super positive.”Ian said, pushing Mickey back in front of him.“Please?Just say something nice.”

Ian and Mary had nearly matching puppy dog eyes.Mickey crumbled.“Fine, crap.Okay.” 

Ian didn’t back off like Mickey thought he would.Instead he moved in tighter so they were both in the shot.Mary held up the camera, moved around a little and then gave them the thumbs up.Mickey just stared at the lens like a deer in headlights.He hated cameras in his face. Mary made a ‘come on’ gesture and Ian gave him a light shin tap with his foot.

“Hi Garry, I’m Mickey, Ian’s...”Mickey’s brain caught up with his mouth just in time to stop him from saying something stupid.He took a breath and continued, “Ah, so Ian tells me you’re the best programmer he’s ever met and a pretty cool dude to have as a friend, so can’t wait tomeet you, man.”

Mickey swiped a hand across his throat in the universal cut gesture.Mary let the camera fall and bestowed Mickey with a huge smile.“Perfect!Thank you so much, Mickey!”

Ian agreed, hugging Mickey’s neck for a moment.“Good job throwing in the friend thing.He doesn’t have many, and he really, really wants you to be one.”

Mickey didn’t have friends either.He hung out with his brothers, cousins and a few people he met during his teenage life of crime, but those were not friendships so much as working relationships and family.Ian was the only person in the history of his life who had actively pursued getting to know him.Genuinely surprised Mickey asked, “Why?”

Ian had a way of understanding him without Mickey having to say much.“Because you’re my best friend and I’m his best friend so you two have to get along and share me.”

Mickey snorted.“Ego much, fire crotch?”

“Screw you, Mickey.”Ian laughed.

***

Per his usual party policy Ian started fading into the background around 11 o’clock. A little before midnight they were able to escape the party without anyone noticing.

They had to ride the elevator up to the sixth floor in order to be able to go back down alone telling Mildred to let them off on the fourth floor.Mickey listened to this with a bemused expression that made Ian want to explain.“For parties all the private parts of the house are locked up behind the fire doors.The elevator and stairs only open on the basement, roof and first and sixth floors.”

“Why?”Mickey asked with that sneer he tended to hide behind when he felt uncomfortable.

“Because when I had parties in my penthouse I had random people fucking in my bed and shit got stolen.I was at a party once where the owners had their place set up this way and I thought it was a great idea.Now, there’s public space and private space.” It had taken him a while to adjust to his life as it now was.He was still adjusting in a lot of ways. 

If Mickey and Mandy had not moved in when they did, Ian was pretty sure he would hate this house by now.It was way too big and too perfect.It needed people in it to feel lived in.He knew the Milkoviches still planned to go back Brooklyn at some point, but he was doing what he could to make Mickey want to stay.

“Huh.” 

“Did you have fun tonight?”Ian asked as he followed Mickey into his room and shut the door behind them.

Mickey belched loudly as he took his jacket off and tossed in on a chair.“I had too many beers is what I had.”

Ian was also feeling a little tipsy.He stripped off his jacket and tossed it on top of Mickey’s.“Remember back in the day when we could drink a six pack each and not even be buzzed?”

Mickey chuckled.“Yeah.We were more expensive drunks back when we were poor, go figure.”

Ian also laughed.“We’ve gotten old, Mickey.”

“Says the 23 year old with an eight pack.” Mickey joked putting a hand on Ian’s stomach for emphasis.Then he pulled Ian in by his tie.“Come here.”

The kiss was as unexpected as it was welcome.Ian was quick to deepen it and overjoyed at how easily Mickey let him.When they broke apart to breathe, Ian whispered, “I was hoping you’d do that.”

“Yeah?”Mickey asked, looking up at him with blown pupils and a leer.

“Oh, yeah.”Ian would bet dollars to doughnuts Mickey was hard as a rock but knew better than call attention to it.He would be too if it weren’t for his undergarment choices. 

Mickey crashed their lips together again, and his hands started working on the buttons of Ian’s waistcoat and then his shirt.Ian wanted to do the same to Mickey, but restrained himself.Mickey didn’t like to be touched and he had developed a thing about revealing his body.The most skin Ian had seen was bare arms in a tee shirt and lower legs in basketball shorts.Ian was not going to push it.His hands stayed shoulders and above like always.Running his fingers over the velvet of freshly cut hair on the back of Mickey’s head felt wonderful anyway.

Mickey got Ian’s shirt open and his hands immediately slipped inside.The pressure in Ian’s over tight briefs became too much.He broke the kiss and stepped back.Mickey looked at him with a guarded expression Ian knew meant his brunette was hurt and trying to hide it.

Draping his arms over Mickey’s shoulders, Ian rested his forehead against Mickey’s and shared an idea that had been floating around for a while.“I was thinking about how our date ended and I was thinking about what you said about your spank bank and I was wondering, do you want me to dance for you?”

***

“Like back at the club?”Mickey asked.He’d had a love/hate relationship with Ian’s dancing back then.Ian was gorgeous and a good dancer so it was exciting to watch him move.Mickey had loved how easy that made it for Ian to tempt money out of desperate, horny men.The part he hated was how those men treated Ian like a hunk of meat that was for sale.He especially hated that in the right mood and for the right price, Ian could be bought.

“No, not like that.” Ian responded, shaking his head.His green eyes were filled with understanding and shame.

Mickey put his hands back on Ian’s ribs wishing he could pull their bodies together but unwilling to risk killing the moment before it got started.The idea of Ian dancing just for him was not unpleasant.“Like how then?”

“Like you go put on your PJs and I’ll show you.” Ian suggested with an uncertain smile.

Mickey knew it was not so much about getting him into more comfortable clothes as it was about getting Ian out of his ridiculous compression briefs.He had freaked the last time he saw Ian’s dick, but right now he sort of wanted to see it again.Things got easier with repetition.

However, Ian had been really upset by his reaction and Mickey didn’t want to do that to him again especially not when Ian was offering himself like this.

“Or not, if you don’t want to.”Ian said because apparently Mickey was taking too long to answer him.

“No, I want to.” Mickey corrected.His body was a little ahead of his mind, but the desire was there.Just thinking of watching Ian move his incredible body was a huge turn on. “Show me what you got, fire crotch.”

“Back in a sec then.”Ian agreed, smiling.He kissed Mickey very briefly on the lips and then gathered up his jacket and left Mickey alone to change clothes.

Mickey changed into a long sleeve tee and pajama pants before concerning himself with music.They had very different tastes, but Mickey found a club mix he thought Ian would like even if Mickey didn’t care for it so much.He was not the one who needed something to dance to.

He had just climbed into bed when Ian came back. 

He tossed a robe on the floor and leaned on the doorframe dressed in nothing but black boxer briefs.The contrast of Ian’s pale skin against the dark material was beautiful.His hair was damp and curling.Mickey half wished he had also taken the moment alone to shower, but he had been too excited to bother.

“Like what you see?”Ian asked, wearing a cocky smile.

“Fuck.”Was all Mickey was able to say as Ian shifted his weight changing the angle of hisbody and the way the light reflected off his pale skin.Mickey’s anticipatory semi began to grow and he reached down to adjust and give himself more room. 

Ian began to move, slowly, sinuously.The way his muscles flexed and relaxed was beautiful and the loose hold of the boxer briefs Ian was wearing left little to the imagination. 

“Touch yourself.”Ian suggested in a near whisper.

Mickey did not have to be told twice. He reached under the covers into his loose fitting pajama pants and freed his cock from the confines of his underwear.He stroked it tip to base and below, cupping his balls, feeling the weight of them in his hand before moving back up and stroking up and down the shaft.He never took his eyes off Ian.

Ian’s cock was jutting out, straining against the material of his boxer briefs.A wet spot was forming near the tip and Mickey almost choked on the thrill of Ian’s arousal.Ian did not touch himself but he was intensely watching Mickey’s hidden hand stroking up and down, faster and faster, as climax approached. 

The anxiety Mickey always felt as he neared orgasm started to build.

“Look at me, Mickey.Eyes up here.”Ian gestured toward himself and Mickey’s gaze followed Ian’s hand up to his face and their eyes locked. 

“Cum for me.”Ian ordered.

The first orgasm in two years crashed over Mickey who almost fell off the bed it was so intense.His body shuddered though the waves of pleasure as jets of semen soaked through his pajama pants. 

It was over way too fast. As the pleasure of a long awaited release began to wane, tears started to fall.Mickey wiped hard at his eyes.“Fuck.”

Ian stopped dancing and sat quietly beside him on the edge of the bed.Mickey slumped against him, tearful, triumphant, exhausted.“Holy hell I needed that.”

“Happy to help.”Ian said softly, running a hand through Mickey’s hair.

Mickey’s body felt like jello and the feel of Ian’s hand in his hair was deeply soothing to over excited nerves.He let his eyes run down Ian’s body, gaze coming to rest on Ian’s erection.Mickey wanted to touch it but fear held him back.Instead he asked, “You gonna take care of that?”

“Nah.This was about you, not me.”Ian said, adjusting his shorts to make his dick less obvious.Mickey could not help being a little disappointed and a lot frustrated.He wanted things to go back to normal in the worst way. 

“Do you need to go again?”Ian asked, adjusting his seat on the bed like he was getting ready to stand back up.

“I don’t want to jinx it.”Mickey replied.He had two years worth of pent up sexual energy screaming for release, but he didn’t want to push his luck.

Ian did not understand.“Jinx it?”

“First time in two years, man.” Mickey reminded.The anxiety he felt whenever he was sexually stimulated had not dissipated.If he tried to go again Mickey was absolutely certain it would not end well.“I don’t want to fuck it up by getting over eager.”

“We could do the exact same thing.”Ian offered, still not getting it.

“Maybe later?”Mickey asked, because he didn’t want to explain.He never wanted to talk about the red headed rapist with Ian ever again.

Ian’s green gaze was searching, but he nodded.“Okay.”

Then Ian kissed him again, short and sweet.

When they pulled apart Mickey was struck by the cold, damp misery of cum soaked undies.He pushed the bedding back and looked at Ian until he caught on and stood up.Embarrassed by the huge wet spot Mickey mumbled, “Fuck, I need a shower.”

“I think it’s hot.”Ian said, eyes on Mickey’s crotch as he handed over the crutches.

“Of course you do.”Mickey shook his head, amused.“Move it, Opie.”

“I’ll move if you promise to never call me that again.”Ian said and at first Mickey thought he was being teased, but Ian looked pretty serious.

“Opie?”Mickey asked, trying to understand what was going on.In the past he’d had a huge collection of nicknames for Ian.Never in their history had Ian protested Mickey’s creativity.

“Yeah.” Ian confirmed and then continued, “While we’re at it Raggedy Andy, Little Orphan Annie and Long Shlong Silver are also off the table.”

“I haven’t called you any of those in years, or never.”All of Mickey’s nicknames had been related to Ian’s hair, his height or his maniacal exercising.Dick jokes had not been part of his repertoire because who made fun of a nine inch joy stick?No one, that’s who.“Long Shlong Silver?”

“I thought that was one of yours.” Ian said scratching the back of his head and looking confused.

Mickey smiled wickedly.“Nope, but it is now.”


	26. A Gallagher Christmas - the Arrival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It has been very interesting posting this story. I wrote it in a bubble without any input from anyone until now. I keep saying most of it is written, and it is, but upon receiving some amazing feedback (the level of engagement from you guys is flabbergasting & I love it) I keep making tiny changes that have larger consequences downstream. It’s fascinating how your opinions change how I see my characterizations and story arc. Some comments spark change, some I know I address later, some raise questions I don’t yet know how to solve or if I can solve at all. 
> 
> Posting this is a major steam outlet for me right now, so I really appreciate you guys giving me a lot to think about and adapt to. Thank you for reading and commenting. Hearing from you gives me something to look forward to. :)

Mickey was annoyed.Super duper annoyed.

The last time Mickey had really seen Ian, he had been stripped down to his boxer briefs ready to dance for Mickey again when his phone went off.He ignored it the first three times it rang, but finally answered it on the fourth.Five minutes later Ian was out the door heading to Claymore and since then Mickey had only had brief conversations with him via text. 

That was days ago, but the crisis was finally over now. 

Ian had called him last night to tell him.Mickey had been relieved to hear it.He had been sweating that one out because everyone from Chicago arrived today for the Christmas holiday and the idea of trying to entertain the Gallagher clan by himself was not something he looked forward to. 

Mickey was in the kitchen turning out his bread dough to start kneading when Ian came downstairs.

Ian walked straight into him, putting his arms around him and burying his face in Mickey’s neck inhaling deeply.Mickey let himself be hugged, unable to really hug back due to hands caked in bread dough. 

“Did the cakes come?”Ian asked letting go and heading for the coffee machine.

Debbie’s birthday had been on the 3rd and Mandy had graduated college only last week.They had planned to take her out to celebrate, but between Mandy’s crazy holiday party schedule and Ian’s crisis at Claymore, they had not been able to make it work.

Mickey might have gotten his degree first but only because he had been in prison with two pushy doctors and nothing better to do.He would be damned before he let Mandy’s single handed accomplishment pass unrecognized.“Yeah.Both of them are in the walk-in down stairs.” 

“Good.”Ian nodded.After a sip of coffee and a sigh, he continued, “The wine delivery came, too?”

“Yeah, so did the grocery delivery and about a million fucking boxes from Amazon we need to hide somewhere.Oh, and the housekeepers were here, too.Quit worrying and relax, man.It’s just family.”

“Exactly.”Ian agreed, looking agitated. “Why are you so fucking calm?”

“It’s not _my_ family.”Mickey replied with a shrug.This was lightyears beyond anything the Milkoviches had ever had so he really couldn’t get that worked up about it.He had survived Thanksgiving and he would survive Christmas. 

“Uh huh.”Ian harrumphed. 

“You got shit straightened out at work?”

“Yeah.We just had a last minute glitch on the new _Survive Southside_ release.We got it fixed and made our deadline though.So far the reviews are positive.”

“Just in time for Christmas, huh?”Mickey asked as he tried to window pane his bread dough.The glutens were doing their thing.He could set it aside to prove now. 

“Remind me never to do this again at Christmas.”Ian complained as Mickey put the dough in a bowl and covered it with a towel.Ian came and sat on a stool near him sipping his coffee.“I’m fucking wiped out.”

Mickey took a moment to look at Ian.He had slept late.He was still in his PJs.He had dark circles under his eyes and hadn’t shaved in a couple days.For Ian’s mental health, routine was important.Mickey also knew Ian used exercise to help keep his head clear, something about endorphins or some shit.Ian did not look like he planned on running today, but as anxious as he appeared he probably should.

Mickey and Dr. Mohammed had talked about bipolar a lot over the years and Mickey had learned some less direct options for confronting Ian’s disorder.Rather than nag like he would have done six years ago, Mickey offered, “If you wanna go run, I’ll have breakfast ready when you get back.”

Ian sipped his coffee and nodded.“Will you make me an omelette?”

“Sure.”Mickey agreed.He liked cooking for Ian and if that made him a fucking housewife then so be it. 

“And toast?”

“Damn right you’ll have toast.I got bread for days in this joint.”

“And yet you’re still making more.”Ian teased as he put his coffee cup in the dishwasher.

He walked over to Mickey, standing close enough Mickey’s shoulder was pressed against Ian’s chest.He leaned down at the same time Mickey lifted his head.Their lips met and Mickey had not realized how much he needed to be kissed until it happened.He turned his body toward Ian and pulled the taller man against him deepening the kiss as he did so.Ian was more cautious keeping their bodies slightly apart, but he kissed back which was what mattered to Mickey. 

Ian looked better when he finally came up for air.His eyes were lit up and he was smiling.He leaned in and kissed Mickey again saying, “You’re the best, you know that, right?”

Rolling his eyes Mickey pushed Ian away.“Go run, you fucking gazelle.”

***

Ian finished his run in 48 minutes flat. It hurt a little today since he had been inconsistent in the past week with his workout routine.Things at Claymore had been insane.There were always little glitches and tweaks this close to a release.This glitch had been pretty big and the mad scramble to still make their deadline had been challenging. 

It had been a terrible time for a mildly manic moment which of course meant that’s when it happened.Svetlana had noticed immediately which had enabled Dr. Brynner to make a small tweak to his meds and correct it before it got out of hand.It lasted for a whopping two days before the med change dragged him back down into the normal range.

He didn’t go entirely off the rails, no random sex or big purchases, just some fast talking and bad sleep.He thought about telling Mickey, but since it was so easily handled and things were so fragile between them he decided not to upset the apple cart over it.

Claymore had made their release date.Most of the press had been done while they had been scrambling to fix the glitch.It had been a whirlwind of taped game play and hopefully not lying about how awesome the update was.That had been utterly exhausting.There where just a few more press follow ups to deal with today.Then he would be mostly free for the holidays unless there was a another major catastrophe.

When he trotted up the stairs to the kitchen Mickey was there, flipping an omelette out onto a plate.The brunette held it out to him, smirking. 

“I’m that predictable?”Ian asked, surprised Mickey had timed his runs.

“Yep.”Mickey smirked as Ian took the plate. “Feel better?”

Of course he asked just as Ian took a bite of toast.God damn, it was good bread.Mickey really did have a knack for the kitchen. His new dedication to bread making was going to pack the pounds on both of them, but for bread this good, Ian was willing to take the risk. 

He nodded.

As Ian took a bite of his omelette, Mickey asked, “Was the plane on time?” 

“Yeah.”What a fucking pain in the ass that had been.

There were 13 people coming from Chicago and Ian’s travel agent had suggested hiring a private jet since the price would be about the same and the convenience factor would be huge.No one in their right mind wanted to do O’Hare and LaGuardia on the same day and definitely not at Christmas.

Ian had expected his family to be thrilled.He had fucking loved the first time he fly private.He didn’t do it often because of the extra carbon footprint, but it sure was nice.

Carl and Liam were stoked, both making sure Ian knew he had their full support.Kev, Vee and Iggy kept their mouths shut. Fiona was neutral. Debbie and Lip had had an opinion or two. 

Ian didn’t get it.

“Want an Ativan?”Mickey asked, fishing through his pockets for his pillbox.

“Gods, yes.” Ian immediately replied, but then held up a hand when Mickey offered him the pillbox.Ativan was not on his med list and he didn’t know if taking it would screw up the delicate chemical balance he was trying to maintain.“I can’t.That’s why you’re so calm, isn’t it?”

“Hell yes.I’m not doing another Gallagher holiday unmedicated.Learned my lesson last time.”Mickey replied with a smirk. 

Ian did not respond. 

Mickey studied him for a moment and frowned. “Were you this freaked out last year?”

“I was super excited last year, but we spent basically the entire time fighting.”It had been the first Christmas the Gallaghers had spent away from North Wallace.Ian had been thrilled to have his family come to his penthouse for the holidays but Fiona had been acting weird because in her opinion Ian had gone overboard on the gifts, the booze, the food, the decorations, everything.Lip had been shit faced and Frankish the entire time.Debbie, Carl,Liam and Frannie had just tried to stay out of the line of fire.“I don’t want a repeat, you know?” 

“Family’s tough, but we got some practice in at Thanksgiving so lets just build on that and we’ll get through this.”Mickey replied with a shrug.

Ian nodded even though he knew it was the Ativan talking otherwise Mickey would be just as freaked out as he was.“I’m hoping having Kev and Vee here will help a little.”

“They make up with Svetlana?”Mickey asked as he took a huge towel covered bowl out of theoven and set it on the counter.

“Yeah, they’ve made up.”Ian replied as he watched Mickey force bread dough out of the bowl and start flattening it out.He had told Mickey about their thrupple thing and the fall out from it.“She paid off the bar and signed it back over to them.”

“Wasn’t that generous.”Mickey sneered. 

There was still a lot of mistrust on Mickey’s end of his relationship with Svetlana.Ian understood it.He had hated Svetlana at first too, but she was as much a victim as Mickey had been, more if he really thought about it, and once he understood that, finding common ground with her had gotten easier.“She’s a little extreme sometimes, but her heart’s in the right place.Kev and Vee really were in danger of losing the bar, they were mismanaging it so bad.She was trying to save it.”

Mickey snorted.“By tricking them into signing it over to her.”

“As I said, extreme, but she’s good with management and money.If they had listened to her advice, she wouldn’t have felt compelled to save them from themselves.Anyway, it’s all good now.”The thrupple thing was long over and relations with the Balls had normalized.Kev and Vee were nothing if not forgiving and Svetlana was the most pragmatic person Ian had ever met.

“Cool.”Mickey nodded, though Ian could tell he still had reservations.Mickey just didn’t want to talk about it anymore.

They were quiet for a while as Mickey split the bread dough into four pieces and arranged them on baking pans.He put the towel back over them and set them aside on the counter. 

Ian just ate and watched as he usually did when Mickey was cooking.Seeing Mickey working on something he enjoyed made Ian happy. 

Mickey moved on to the next part of whatever it was he was making for dinner.It involved flour and eggs and apparently some elbow grease.Ian knew tonight’s dinner was going to be a huge challenge since it involved feeding 18 people.Beating up on dough was something he could help with.“I can do that if you want.”

“Knock yourself out.”Mickey said, pushing the parchment paper with the dough on it towards Ian. “Wash your hands first.” 

Ian washed his hands and got started.He had watched Mickey knead a lot of dough in the last couple weeks, but he still wanted to make sure he was doing it right.“Like this?” 

In answer, Mickey put on a YouTube video.Ian watched for a moment and then started mimicking the movements.“Okay, think I got it.”

“Yep, that’s right, pumpkin.”Mickey agreed, watching Ian for a while with a small smile on his face.Then he turned towards the fridge.

***

Mickey watched Ian working the pasta dough.The way his arms flexed and moved in the tight longs leave shirt he was wearing was mouth watering.

He did not really have time to appreciate it though.They would have a house full in less than an hour and Mickey still had the pasta to finish, the bread to put in the oven and the sauce to make.

First, he had an antepasto plate to do while the pasta dough rested.

He had made his own crostini and he had gotten a crap ton of Italian meats and artisan cheeses and some extra crackers.He had four kinds of olives even though he hated them as well as figs, apples, and grapes.Nearly all of it required slicing.

Mickey had surprised himself with how adventurous he was becoming with food.It was almost a game to see how far he could push his palette and his cooking skills.He had become so obsessed he no longer really cared about how much of Ian’s money he spent on cooking equipment or ingredients.

The antepasto plate was an example.Half the things he bought for it he had never tried, but thought might be interesting.Mickey figured he would probably be in the minority, but fuck him if he wanted to elevate the snacks in this joint.

He pulled out a soppressata, which might or might not be a fancy salami, and put it on a cutting board.Then he pulled out a chef’s knife and tested the edge finding it needed sharpening.

“I think you’re done there, fire crotch.”Mickey said when he noticed the dough looked like how it was supposed to on the video.He handed over a box of cling wrap.“Wrap it up and then we’ll let it rest for a bit before we roll it out.”

As Mickey was sharpening the knife, Ian asked, “You excited to see Iggy?”

“Not exactly.Iggy’s still part of the family business.”Mickey replied.Jamie, Joey and Colin he understood.They were Terry clones, just not as smart or as cruel.Iggy, on the other hand,lived in a mysterious cloud of smoke.Who he really was and were his loyalties lay was unknown. 

“Mandy says he wants out.” 

Mickey really hoped this was true.“Either that or this is a fishing expedition ordered by my dad to figure out where we are so he can come for us.”

“Fuck, I hadn’t thought of that.”Ian exclaimed.

“Yeah,”Mickey had spent a lot of time thinking about it.He wouldn’t know what Iggy was up to until he saw his brother and maybe not even then.Still, the fact was, “Gonna have to deal with Terry again at some point anyway.This shit isn’t over until one of us is dead.”

“I’ll kill him before he lays another hand on either of you.”Ian growled.“I know people who know people.I can make that shit happen.”

Mickey had no doubt Ian could do it if he really wanted to, but he had already had six years.Mickey figured if he had not by now, he would not.He didn’t want Ian to anyway.“You don’t want that shit on your conscience.I’ll deal with him.”

“I don’t want it on your conscience either.”Ian replied.

“You ever kill someone?”Mickey knew the answer already.Ian’s time in ROTC had taught him how to kill, but as far as Mickey knew, Ian had never taken a life.He would bet Ian had never killed anything larger than an insect.

“No.”Ian said, confirming Mickey’s suspicion.

Mickey, on the other hand, had done a lot of things he wasn’t proud of.He’d never actually pulled the trigger himself, but his hands were far from clean. “Then you’re the one with the conscience, man.Just stay out of it.”

“You’ve actually killed someone?”Ian asked, clearly surprised.

Mickey arched an eyebrow at him.Technically no, but he’d been involved in and witnessed some pretty heinous shit.The reputation the Milkoviches had, the reputation he had, on the Southside was earned. Ian of all people had to know that.

“Your father is an evil fucking bastard.”Ian sighed.

Mickey could not agree more.However, Terry wasn’t going to be allowed to get into Ian’s head any more than he already was.Not if Mickey could help it.“Yeah and he’s my fucking problem.Got it?”"

Before Ian had a chance to reply Mildred announced people at the door and the doorbell went off, over and over again.The Chicago contingent had arrived.

***

Ian took a breath before he opened the door.

Frannie was working the doorbell and Fiona was at the front of the group, wearing the smile-grimace Ian knew meant she was stressed out and trying to hide it.Behind her was a man with a shaved head Ian knew from Skype to be Ford, her boyfriend and Ian’s sometime restoration contractor on Chicago projects.They had never met before face to face.

Carl pushed Ian out of the way to let himself in.There was a petite blonde girl literally hanging off his arm while simultaneously trying to take a selfie.Ian snatched the phone out of her hand.

“Hey!”

“Come on in everyone.Merry Christmas!”Ian hollered, wearing his own version of the smile-grimace and holding the stolen phone high over his head and out of reach of the very unhappy blonde girl.

“What the actual fuck?”Lip said as soon as he entered the house looking around at the cavernous, nearly empty room and the huge bar along one of the walls.

“Wow, Ian, this is dope!”Kev said as he made a beeline for the antique bar.It had been bought at auction from an old speak easy and retrofitted with modern equipment.“This bar’s bigger than the Alibi.And it’s all top shelf, Vee.I think I’ve died and gone to bartender heaven.”

The blonde girl was now loudly complaining to Carl to get her phone back.

Fiona hugged Ian and said quietly into his ear, “I thought we talked about locking up the alcohol.” 

“Yeah, if he’s on the wagon, which he isn’t.”Ian replied.He and Lip had been texting a little lately and Lip had told him his formula for controlling his drinking without actually stopping drinking.“He says he has a system, that’s not the same thing.”

“No, that’s a bullshit Frank thing.”Fiona frowned.Apparently Lip had managed to hide his drinking from her.

“Maybe his system works?”Ian said as he watched Lip walk over to the bar and look at the shelves.

“Yeah, when pigs fly on a cold day in hell.”Fiona muttered and then plastered a smile back on her face when the elevator dinged announcing Mickey’s arrival.She ran over to hug him.“Hi, Mickey.”

“Hey.”Mickey returned the embrace awkwardly.

“S’up,” Iggy mumbled, shuffling forward, eyes on the ground.He had a black trash bag over his shoulder.Ian would bet it contained everything Iggy owned.

Ian watched the two Milkoviches awkwardly greet each other.Mickey clasped Iggy’s shoulder briefly.“Hey, bro.Welcome to the big apple.”

“I want my fucking phone back, Carl!”The super annoying blonde girl whined loudly.

“Hey!There’s kids present.”Vee snapped, hands on hips.“Watch your damn mouth.”

Carl, looking ashamed of the pussy whipped bitch he had become, asked, “Hey Ian, can you just give Kassidi back her phone?”

“Sure.”Ian held out the phone which the blonde girl eagerly reached for.Ian held onto it tight when she grabbed it and said, “This is a private family gathering.I don’t want to see pictures from inside my house on social media, you got me?”

She glared at him.“Fine.Whatever.”

Ian let go of the phone and stared at her until she put it in her pocket. 

“So this isn’t awkward.”Kev said, from his place behind the bar.

“Yeah, sorry about that.”Ian said sheepishly.He didn’t want to be an asshole, but something about the girl rubbed him wrong from the jump.Nearly her entire life was available for viewing on Snapchat and Instagram. 

He had already warned Carl if he saw any photos from this get together his girlfriend would not be welcome in his house.He hoped Carl took him seriously, because he meant it.

For now though he could let it go and get on to the next part of his pre-festivities instructions.“So, sleeping arrangements.We built a tent city on the sixth floor which can be both play room and bedroom for the under 10 crowd.”

“Really?Can we go up?”Asked Liam.

Vee looked from Ian to Liam and made a shooing gesture, “Sure, take Amy and Gemma with you.” 

Liam held out one elbow to Gemma and the other to Amy.“Here, I’ll show you around.This house is way cool.”

As the elevator closed behind the kids, Ian moved on to the rest of his plan.“Alright, so now that it’s just mostly grown ups we’ve got the Gallaghers on the fifth floor.Mandy, Iggy, Kev and Vee and Svetlana are on the fourth floor.Mickey and I are on the third.All the stuff you bought over Thanksgiving or had shipped here is either in there or in the offices on the third floor.”Ian pointed to the storage closet between the bar and the huge dining table.The Santa stuff was in the offices upstairs. 

“Also, this is a smoke free house.If you wanna smoke, do it on the roof, not the courtyard. There’s a covered seating area and heat lamps up there.The bar is open, anything you find in it is fair game, same with the second floor kitchen.” He paused, certain he was forgetting something.“Oh, but stay out of the basement kitchen or I cannot be held responsible for what Mickey might do to you.And ah, that’s the sum total of what we have organized.So, go get unpacked, settle in and we’ll meet back down here at six to celebrate Debbie’s birthday and Mandy’s graduation.Cool?”

“You sound like a CEO barking orders.”Lip snarked.

Ian immediately bristled but Mickey responded first.He elbowed Ian in the ribs and said, “If you mean control freak, you got that right.”

The group laughed and Ian tried to smile.It was going to be a long week.


	27. Gallaghers Really Know How To Pick ‘em

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So...we’ve had a pretty serious debate going on in the comments. It makes me want to go check out other stories comments. Is it always so lively around here?
> 
> Anyways, thank you for reading! Hope you enjoy.

Ford, Fiona and Ian had been making slow progress through the house talking over design details of the architecture and antiques.When they left the second floor for the third Ian shot Mickey a look of desperation.Mickey let Ford carry on dragging Ian through his house for a further five minutes before he went over to the landing and called up, “Hey Ian, I need your help.You got a sec?” 

“Sure thing, Mick.” He heard Ian holler back.

Moments later Ian jogged down the stairs and into the kitchen.“Jesus.Like I know _anything_ about coffers and dental molding.”

“What?”Mickey asked. He thought they had been talking about the house, not teeth.

“Exactly.”Ian made an exasperated gesture.“Maybe he and Fiona can finish their tour of judgment by themselves about the very inauthentic Art Decco remodel I apparently overpaid for.Fuck.”

“So you’re having a good time.”Mickey joked, fitting himself against Ian and running a hand through the taller man’s hair.Mickey arched his neck up and kissed Ian’s jaw.

“I’m having a much better time now.”Ian sighed as his arms came around Mickey’s upper body and he kissed Mickey’s temple trailing kisses down towards Mickey’s ear.“Is this what you needed me for?”

“It’s been a week, man.”Mickey complained.Jerking off alone was still a no-go situation and he had a lot of pent up energy he’d like to release, but he apparently needed Ian physically present to do it.

Ian chuckled.“What are we gonna do to put an end to this terrible drought?”

“Maybe you could dance for me again?”Mickey asked, knowing full well Ian would.

“That I could do.”Ian breathed, kissing the spot right under Mickey’s ear by his jawline that Mickey liked.

Mickey let his head fall back and Ian kissed across his neck to his Adam’s apple.Mickey sighed.“I think there should also be a lot of kissing involved.”

“Into it. Go on.”Ian said, finally trailing up to Mickey’s mouth.

Mickey’s hands were roaming over Ian’s hips, one cupping the curve of his ass.God, Ian had a nice ass. “I want to touch you.”

“Anytime.”Ian smiled into the kiss. 

Mickey’s hand drifted off Ian’s hip and around to cup him.Mickey squeezed. Ian startled, broke the kiss and stepped back, green eyes concerned and searching.He gave a half hearted laugh, “Was not expecting that.”

“Me either,” Mickey admitted.He had been caught up in the moment and it had been good.He was half glad, half angry Ian had stopped it because it had been okay.He had been okay.With more sarcasm than was warranted, he held up both hands and said, “Look mom, not shaking.”

Ian studied him for a long moment and then looked around the room.Then he looked back at Mickey, a twinkle in his eye, “Wanna go upstairs for a bit?”

Yes, Mickey sure as shit did.He was horny as hell.He nodded and started to follow Ian out of the kitchen when the front door alarm went off announcing another arrival followed by the voice of his son yelling, “Papa!”

“Shit.”Mickey groaned. Yevgeny needed to work on his timing.Willing his dick into submission he made a quick adjustment and hobbled back behind the counter with Ian right behind him doing the same thing.They made it before Yevgeny shot into the room and straight for his dad. 

Yevgeny threw his arms around Mickey, squeezed hard, and then let go to also hug Ian. 

“Hey, Yev.How you doing, little man?”

Yevgeny turned to Mickey with huge, excited eyes.“Did you know Santa comes in three days?”

“He does?”Mickey asked as if he had not spent the preceding few days wrapping gifts from himself and Santa for his son.

“Yeah, he does.”Yevgeny said with great seriousness.“Mama says I have to be super good so he doesn’t leave me a lump of coal.What’s coal, Papa?”

Svetlana asked, “Where is family?”

“Most of ‘em went out I think.” Mickey replied to his ex-wife before telling his son, “It’s this black lumpy stuff people used to burn for heat.”

“Oh, why would Santa give that to the bad kids?”Yevgeny asked, looking confused.

There was a history lesson in there somewhere, but Mickey had not paid enough attention in school so he was not the man to teach it.“No idea, Yev.”

Svetlana looked at her Apple Watch and then at Ian.“Orange boy, you should be on the phone with IGN right now, no?”

“Holy shit!”Ian’s eyes grew wide and he darted up the stairs towards his office.

Svetlana chuckled.“He has interview now and at four then, unless disaster happens, no more work until new year.”

“Are you taking all that time off, too?”Mickey asked.He glanced at his own plain old normal watch and noted it was half past three.Time to get to work on the pasta.

“Do you not see luggage?”She gestured towards a suitcase and several large shopping bags.

“Oh.”The last Mickey heard was Yev would stay the week and Svetlana might or might not depending on how things went.

“You were preoccupied with boyfriend’s crotch, is understandable.”She said with a waggle of eyebrows and a teasing smile.Mickey dead eyed her and she changed the subject.“No one helps you cook?”

Mickey shrugged.“Lip, Kev, Vee and Iggy are down at the bar.”

“I see them when I come in.” 

“The girls went shopping and the kids are on the sixth floor.”

Yevgeny lit up.“Amy and Gemma are here?”

“Sure are.”Yevgeny had been looking forward to seeing his ‘sisters’ since the Balls confirmed they would come to Christmas.It made Mickey happy to make Yevgeny happy even if he did think the hangover from the bar and the thrupple thing could still get messy.“They’re up on six with Liam.”

“Can I go up, too?”Huge blue eyes pleaded first with a stone faced Svetlana and then turned on Mickey.

Mickey gave his son a gentle push toward the elevator.“Get on up there, kiddo.”

They both watched as the boy ran to the elevator and when the door did not immediately open, abandoned it in favor of running up the stairs.Svetlana asked, “It is safe?”

“Yeah, Ian had a guy come over to kid proof it.There’s also Mildred.”

“He get’s nanny?”Svetlana asked.

“No,” Mickey denied and then said, “Yo, Mildred, show me the sixth floor.”

The TV mounted on the wall opposite the kitchen popped on and gave a view of the sixth floor play room.They watched as Yev stormed into the room and was immediately hugging Amy and Gemma. 

A wicked grin spread over Svetlana’s face. “Oh, spy cam, like at office.”

“Yeah, his paranoid security guy installed it.It can show you any of the public areas inside and outside the house.You can basically ask her anything.It’s like having a talking security system, Siri and Alexa all in one.”

“It is called Gertrude at work.”Svetlana took a seat on one of the stools and Mickey pulled out the wrapped pasta dough.Svetlana watched him for a while while he figured out the pasta maker and got the YouTube video going about how to roll pasta out.

“So far so good?”Svetlana asked.

“Yeah,” Mickey replied.Aside from all the usual stuff that came with a group of Gallaghers there was the added bonus of the little blonde whom Mickey had taken and instant and deep dislike to.“Beware of Carl’s girlfriend.She’s psycho and talks way too fucking much.”

***

Ian looked out at the table full of people and felt his anxiety ebb.This was his family, dysfunctional, eclectic and insane as it was.

He loved these people, well most of them.He could do without Fiona’s pretentious boyfriend and Carl’s batshit crazy girlfriend, but otherwise these were basically his people.

“Is it okay to take pictures of the food, massa?”

All eyes turned to the hateful little blonde who was practically sitting in Carl’s lap.

“ _What_ did you just say?”Vee asked, her voice low enough her daughters shrank in their chairs trying to escape her attention.

Kassidi shrugged dramatically.“Well, he’s acting like some sort of evil over lord.”

Ian was about to explain himself again when Mickey beat him to it, “It’s his house, his rules.Get with the program or get the fuck out.”

“Mickey!”Fiona scolded as if Mickey had said something the rest of them weren’t thinking.

“What?”Mickey challenged, not backing down.

This was going nowhere good.The house had a security system to rival a Las Vegas casino, so lots of photos were in fact being taken but Ian didn’t want to spoil the mood by telling everyone they were under constant surveillance.Instead he put his foot down.“I said no photos in the house.I meant it.”

“Not even of your boyfriend’s amazing lasagna?”The little blonde girl sassed back.

Mandy finally couldn’t stand it anymore and weighed in.“What part of no photos did you not understand?”

“He just took one.”Kassidi said with a smirk and a gesture toward Lip who did indeed have his phone out.

“Lip, seriously?”Fiona asked, exasperated.

“I agree with Kassidi.Everyone takes pictures at Christmas, or are you too rich and famous for that now?”Lip, who had clearly taken full advantage of the ground floor bar, asked.

“Hey, hey now.”Kev stood up.“We’re like on hour four of a seven day stretch.How about we nominate an official photographer so we can capture the awesome lasagna and some other moments but still respect these guys’ home.”

“I’ll do it!”Kassidi immediately volunteered raising her hand and looking for all the world like a deranged Hermione Granger.

“No.” Ian answered.“You have selfies with Carl and a dead hobo on your Instagram.”

“What?”Several people said in unison as they all turned to stare at Kassidi and Carl.

“So?It was like epic.No one else has anything like that.”Kassidi exclaimed as Carl hung his head.

The only thing epic about it was how completely narcissistic and barbaric it was.Ian wanted to shout down the little bitch, but checked his temper and said, “Which is exactly why you’re not taking pictures in my house, got it?”

Fiona tried to end the argument saying, “I nominate Kev since it was his idea in the first place.”

“Yes, Kevin should do.”Svetlana agreed.

Kassidi tried again.“But...”

To shut everyone up Ian said, “Fine.Kev is our official chronicler.Get a picture of the table so we can dig in.” 

***

Dinner had been a fucking nightmare.It started with a fight over photos and moved on to an uncomfortable discussion of the house’s sometimes less than authentic qualities. 

Iggy sat next to Mandy like a statue too afraid to move or open his mouth for any other purpose than shoveling food in.Mandy was on the defensive, taking up arms against anyone who seemed to be messing with Mickey or Ian, which meant she and Lip spent most of the evening arguing. 

By the end of the meal it was a toss up between Kassidi and Lip for who Mickey wanted to murder more. 

“Damn man, you can cook.”Kevin said as he pushed back from the table.“That was one of the best meals I think I’ve ever had.”

A lot more compliments followed.

“Whatever,” Mickey responded.His confidence as a cook was growing, but it was still hard to believe a fucking lasagna was that impressive.

“Carl, Kassidi and Lip, you clear the table.Ford, let’s go get the cakes.”Fiona said, taking charge as she always did.There was some grumbling, but the discovery of the dumbwaiter to carry the dishes upstairs helped.As Fiona and Ford went down to the basement walk in refrigerator to get the cakes, Kev and Vee went to the bar to make complimentary cocktails.

Mickey wondered what this group would think of the cakes.He had been pretty adventurous when he picked out the flavors getting Debbie a chocolate dulche de leche cake and Mandy a Lemoncello cake.So far no one had turned their nose up at anything he had made which surprised him, though maybe it should not.Maybe like him, they had all been so starved for real food they would try anything now that they had access.

His thoughts were interrupted by Fiona and Ford returning with the cakes.Cakes and cocktails went better than dinner had and Ian’s chin had dropped a fraction by the time Mickey decided it was time for them to retire for the night.

Using his injury as an excuse, Mickey started making their exit. “Ian, I’m wiped, man.I’m gonna go put some ice on this and hit the sack.”

“Okay.I’ll bring you up the ice.”Ian responded taking the hint as he leapt out of his chair and came around to Mickey’s side to help him up.His acting was good enough Mickey thought Ian might actually believe he had hurt himself.

Svetlana also came to their assistance.“We will clean.You take care of idiot ex-husband.He pushes too hard today.” 

Kev went over to the bar and filled a plastic bag with ice and wrapped a bar towel around it.He handed it to Ian whispering, “Sneaky bastards.I so envy you guys right now.”

The ride up to the third floor was silent. 

Ian had collected all of Mickey’s things from his room earlier and brought them to the master bedroom.Mickey had never been in it, purposefully avoiding it until now because he still wasn’t sure he wanted to enter Ian’s personal space yet.

Now it was happening and Mickey was mentally resisting the feeling it would be a permanent move.

As Ian kicked off his shoes, Mickey looked around.The room was huge.It had all the architectural details Mickey had noticed on the other floors of the house.The moldings were bright white and very detailed.The hardwood floors were herringbone patterned and stained asmoky color which complimented the pewter gray walls.The bed was huge with a wrought iron headboard in a deco design.The bedding was white with a variety of textures. 

There were two fireplaces, one at the foot of the bed and a second in the sitting area with it’s teal gray sofa and a couple of arm chairs as if there would ever be that many people sitting in a bedroom.

This room felt more lived in, the pull out couch having been hastily made and there was a jacket laying over the back of one of the chairs.The art on the walls was framed posters from movies Ian liked and the games he had created.

The moment the door closed behind them Ian turned the lock and said, “What the fuck is Carl thinking?”

“Who’s thinking? He’s 17 getting his dick wet.End of story.”Mickey had to laugh at Ian’s vehemence.Carl was being led around by his cock just like every other 17 year old boy on planet earth. 

Ian threw himself dramatically down on his bed.“I don’t think I’m gonna make it six more days with her.”

Mickey also disliked the girl who had to be the most spoiled, sociopathic brat he had ever had the misfortune to meet.That she came from money and had been indulged her entire life was obvious and grating on his nerves. 

“Avoid her.” Mickey suggested.Prison had taught him a thing or two about picking his battles and how to ignore the ones that weren’t worth fighting.In this case, he planned to just stay away from her.“I sure as fuck plan to.”

“She’s like a cat, the more she knows you hate her the more she tries to fuck with you.”Ian whined.

“Then spray her with water or some shit.Maybe she’ll melt.”She was definitely a witch.

“If she breaks my rules, I’ll have her on the first bus back to Chicago.” Ian said sitting up in the bed. “No, you know what?I’ll turn her in as a runaway.Let DCFS deal with her.”

Mickey decided it was time for a subject change.“With a bed that huge I’m surprised you pulled out the couch.”

Ian glanced over and then shrugged.“A promise is a promise.I just want you to be comfortable and feel safe.”

The guilty earnestness on Ian’s face made Mickey roll his eyes.“Coerced, blackmailed and manipulated maybe, but I’ve never felt unsafe with you, Ian.”

Ian’s gaze fell and Mickey almost felt guilty for calling him out when for once Ian was keeping a promise, but he had to say it.

Ian sighed and sat down on the edge of the sofa bed.“The party was a mistake.”

Mickey agreed.“Maybe next time you tell me what I’m walking into instead of pretending no one knows me.”

“I didn’t think it would go like that.”Ian said.

“Obviously.” Mickey rolled his eyes. “How the fuck did everyone know who I am anyway?”

Ian looked up at him and made a face.“I might have gotten really drunk a few years back and told a large gathering of people all about the one that got away. I might have done that more than once, actually.”

“Jesus, Ian.”That must have been one hell of a night since literally everyone at the party had known who he was.On the one hand it was irritating as fuck.On the other it was kinda cool to be so obviously missed.

“I’m sorry.” 

“Sure you are.”Mickey snarked back, doubting that was true.

Ian sighed and started to pull the covers back on the fold out couch.“Let’s just go to sleep.”

Mickey stared for a moment at the huge, beautiful bed in front of him.Even if both of them were super mobile sleepers, which they weren’t, he doubted they would come into contact at all in a bed that big.“You wanna sleep in your bed, man?I feel weird kicking you out of it.”

Ian sat on the sofa bed.“This is okay.I don’t want to roll over on you and wake up with a black eye or something.”

Mickey met Ian’s eyes, wondering for a moment if that comment was sarcasm or sorrow.Judging Ian’s intention sincere, he sighed and dragged a hand down his face.“My panic attacks have literally nothing to do with you.At all.It’s just a kink in my wiring I’m trying to straighten out.”

“Ginger rapist.”Ian muttered.

“I’m seriously regretting telling you about that.”He should have known Ian would take it personally.He told Ian so the ginger idiot would understand the panic attacks were not about him.He walked over to Ian and put a hand on his head, messing up his hair.“He looked nothing like you other than the red hair.Really.He was shorter, huge beer belly, and covered in Nazi tats.Ugly mother fucker, but you...you’re beautiful.”

Ian’s eyes came up and he looked haunted.“Mickey.”

Mickey decided he had to be a lot more careful with what he said.He remembered how ideas would sometimes get in Ian’s head and grow unchecked until they were full on crazy.The suitcases were a good example.He brought his hand down Ian’s cheek to rest under his jaw.“Dance for me?”

Ian nodded.“Planned on it.”

“Now works for me.”Mickey said when Ian did not move to get up.

Ian looked up at him and smiled. “Impatient much?”

“It’s been a week, man.”Mickey shot back.

“Go sit on the bed.” 

Mickey did as told and went to the bed and sat down. 

Ian came over and stood in front of him.“Mildred, lights dim, fire on.”

The lights went down and the fireplace leapt to life backlighting Ian into a glowing silhouette.Mickey licked his lips.

Ian smiled down at him and said, “Mildred, play spank bank.”

Mickey smirked at the playlist name as the music started to play and Ian began to move, slow and sinuous.Ian started unbuttoning his shirt.

“You’re stripping for me?”Mickey asked, though it was obvious that was exactly what Ian was doing.

Ian slowly pulled his shirt off, moving his body to the side so the firelight played off the rippling muscle of his abdomen as it was revealed.“Sit back and watch.”

“Jesus.”Mickey breathed, eyes glued to the beautiful man in front of him. 

Ian started to work on his fly. 

Mickey started to work on his.

“Okay?”Ian asked as he started sliding his jeans down off his hips.

“Fuck yeah.” Mickey breathed, hand inside his underwear.“Shut up and dance.”

Ian smirked as he bent down, revealing a flexibility Mickey did not remember him having, and pulled off his jeans.He came back up, moving slow.He was wearing briefs with a pouch front that Mickey associated with gay porn.It made sense given the porn worthy cock outlined in blue gray stripes. 

Mickey’s boxers were too confining.With the briefest flash of worry he was pushing himself too far, Mickey pulled a blanket over his lap and pushed his boxers out of his way and resumed stroking. 

“Still okay?”Ian asked, watching him with hungry green eyes.

Mickey nodded, not taking his eyes off Ian.He watched the way Ian’s muscles moved in the firelight and knew he never had and never would see anything else as beautiful as Ian. 

The song ended and a new one started with a faster beat and Ian moved accordingly.Mickey’s sense of urgency increased as the pleasure started to build.His hand stroked faster, so close.So close.

For an instant Ian’s face faded and terror and humiliation flashed in.His hand faltered as he struggled to focus back on Ian.

Ian danced a little closer, moving down lower where Mickey’s dropped gaze would catch hold of him again.Fuck he was gorgeous.Mickey’s focus returned as he watched one of Ian’s long fingered hands run through his red hair and down around his neck, lower over his chest, down across his belly to the waistband of his briefs.In a low voice Ian ordered, “Cum for me, Mickey.”

Like last time, Mickey’s body responded immediately.He came hard and it felt like his orgasm was also jettisoning something ugly and dark.It left him feeling relieved and relaxed, like some of the terrible tension restraining him had eased.

Ian kept moving throughout, watching with avid attention that only weeks ago would have unnerved Mickey but now left him thinking being desired wasn’t so bad.“You’re turning me into one of Pavlov’s dogs, man.”

“That a problem?”Ian asked, smirking like he was proud of himself.

“No.” Mickey shook his head.He wasn’t complaining.Twice Ian had done this and twice it had drawn Mickey back out of his head and into the moment.He would happily take orders if this was the result.

Ian stopped dancing and Mickey just stared at him for a long moment, taking in his beauty and his self restraint.Ian was hard, jutting out past his right hip in the confines of his blue and gray briefs.Mickey had loved Ian’s cock from the first time he had seen it.He wanted to see it again.“Take it out.”

“That didn’t go so well last time.”Ian reminded him.

“Everything’s better the second time around.”God knew this had been.He patted the seat next to him.“I wanna watch you.”

“Okay.”Ian agreed.He had freaked out the last time he had seen Ian’s dick.Ian was watching him very carefully as he pulled his cock free.

Mickey swallowed.Ian was bigger than he remembered him, not longer thank God because nine inches was more than enough, but thicker.Ian’s long fingers did not quite meet as his hand circled around his cock and began to stroke. 

Mickey glanced up to find Ian watching him intently.Mickey grinned and then let his gaze fall back down to Ian’s groin.The head of Ian’s cock was dark red and weeping small pearls of fluid.It would not be long.Ian’s hand picked up speed and Mickey’s cock twitched in response. 

“Jesus, Ian.”Mickey breathed as his hand found it’s way back onto his own cock.Watching Ian touch himself was an erotic torture requiring some relief even if it was too soon to go again.

“I’m gonna cum.”Ian warned.

Mickey licked his lips and nodded watching as Ian’s stroking lost it’s rhythm and jets of semen rained down on the hardwood floor.

“Wow.That was fucking good.” Ian groaned, eyes rising up to meet Mickey’s.“You okay?”

“Yeah.”Mickey said finding the word completely inadequate to describe how he felt. 

“Good.”Ian smiled.

Mickey understood that smile.He felt the same way, released, encouraged, sated. 

“I need a shower, wanna join me?”Ian asked pulling off his briefs and using them to mop up the semen on the floor.

“Nah, man.You take the first one.I’ll go next.”Mickey demurred.He might have taken another step toward sexual freedom, but he had done zero work on his body image issues. 

Ian cocked his head and frowned.“You know I think you’re perfect, right?I don’t care how skinny you are, or how many scars you have, or if you removed that tattoo on your chest, or added more or whatever.I love you no matter what.”

If he couldn’t stand to look himself, he was a long way from letting Ian see.“Go take your shower, fire crotch


	28. Bread Nazi

It was morning and Ian was sleeping.

Mickey watched him for a while, basking in actually being present to see it.He had honestly believed he would never see this again and had tried to convince himself he was okay with that.He absolutely wasn’t.He could spend a lifetime looking at this and never be tired of it.

He finally got up to brush his teeth and pee.

He still could not get over the bathroom.It was huge and beautiful and all white and black marble.There was an egg shaped two person tub that was carved out of a solid marble block.The shower could fit an orgy in it and was complicated to operate like everything else in the house.There was a shower chair in it uglying it up some, but Mickey needed it so whatever.It had normal shower heads but Mickey couldn’t figure out how to work them.Instead he ended up in rain mode which was literally the entire ceiling of the shower raining down on him.He’d ask Ian how to make it work like a normal shower later. 

There were double vanities.Ian’s looked lived in.The other one had Mickey’s toothbrush and toothpaste.Both had huge mirrors.Mickey had to carefully navigate those to avoid seeing himself.The only part of the bathroom with any real privacy was the little room with the toilet and bidet. 

Ian was still sleeping when he came back out so Mickey quietly left the room to go get some coffee.

He was halfway down the stairs when he heard Debbie say, “I’m telling you, he’ll kill us if we use this bread for French toast.There has to be some store bought around here somewhere.”

“Why would he have four loaves of this bread just sitting here for?”That was Kassidi.

“I don’t know, but this is not bread for French toast.I’m telling you.He might seem all tame and domestic and you might think he’s too crippled to be a threat, but believe me, Mickey Milkovich is not someone you want to piss off.”

Mickey smiled.This was exactly how he saw himself.It was crazy how much his surroundings and circumstances had changed.He tried not to think about it too much.When he did, he worried he was changing into one of those yuppies he had always despised.He was glad to learn other people still knew under the nicer clothes, removed tattoos and joy of cooking, he was the same Southside thug he had always been.

“Listen to her, Kass.Mickey’s a badass.”Vee said and from her tone Mickey knew she was exasperated.Vee was pretty patient, but she sounded like she was nearing the end of her rope.

“Who _bakes_?Whateeever.”Kassidi snarked.

“Would you mess with Gordon Ramsey?Because Mickey could eat that guy for lunch.”Vee threatened.Mickey snorted to be compared to the scariest chef alive.He probably could take Ramsey if it came to blows, but he would definitely lose in an argument.

“Do you see any other bread around here?”

“Maybe we should just make pancakes.”Debbie suggested.

“No!I promised my Carl French toast.”Kassidi whined, then her voice went syrupy,“He loves my French toast.”

Mickey’s stomach turned.

“Carl will eat literally anything you put in front of him.”Vee said, which was true.Carl was a 17 year old bottomless pit of hunger.That’s just how boys worked.

Apparently undeterred Kassidi asked, “Iggy, do you really think your brother would kill me over some bread?”

“I’ve seen him kill for less.” Iggy replied and Mickey could hear the shrug in his voice as he told this lie.Murder, no, but Iggy had seen Mickey give (and take) some vicious beatings.As if to punctuate his point, Iggy announced, “I’m gonna have cereal.”

“This is bullshit!” Kassidi shouted. “They’re like crazy gay nazis! First my phone and now bread?What the hell?”

This was met with muttering Mickey could not hear so he started down the stairs again.

“What the fuck?”Kassidi exclaimed.

“Just wanted to capture this moment for posterity, you know, as the official photographer.Never seen anyone over the age of three throw this big a tantrum about bread.”Kev said, doing a very good unhappy dad voice.

“Screw you!”

Mickey wanted to strangle her, but decided to play it cool like he had not overheard all of this bullshit.He crutch walked into the kitchen and headed straight for the coffee maker.He could feel all the eyes on him.Once he had a cup he turned around and faced the small crowd watching him.“Morning.”

Greetings were muttered back by all but the scowling blonde girl who was hovering in front of the breadbox.

Mickey took a sip of his coffee and then turned to Debbie.“Debs, I made you some of that Amish bread you liked last time.”

“What?”She asked, not understanding.

French toast had been his intention all along for the Amish bread.He felt a little bad for being such a grump about it at Thanksgiving and wanted to make up for it.“For French toast.Remember?”

“See, I told you!”Kassidi screeched, rounding on Debbie like she was going to take her ‘I told you so’ to a physical level.

“Woah, slow your roll there, princess.I made the bread for Debbie.”Mickey said. 

It was fascinating to watch how her face changed, going from angry at not getting her way to bright eyed and falsely innocent as if that would be enough to make him melt. 

Mickey was unimpressed.“This is not your house.We are not your family.You keep acting like an entitled little bitch and I’ll put you the fuck out of this house, got it?”

She looked like he had slapped her, blue eyes wide and mouth open in an ‘O’ shape before her face fell and she started to blubber, “But...”

Mickey wasn’t buying it.He had lived in a houseful of hand whores.“No buts.You tone your shit down.Now.We’re trying to have a Merry fucking Christmas here.Keep this shit up and you’ll be on a bus back to Chicago like that.”He snapped his fingers.

She glared at him and Mickey thought she was going to try to call his bluff, when Carl stumbled down the stairs rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.Before he got a chance to say anything, Kassidi was glued to his side, tears in her eyes asking, “Why aren’t you standing up for me, Carl?”

“What?” Carl asked, confused and still half asleep.

Her bottom lip trembled. 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Kev muttered at the same time Mickey pointed a finger at her and ordered, “Enough.”

Carl draped an arm over Kassidi’s shoulder and surveyed the room.He glanced at the ingredients already spread over the counter by the cook top. He blew out a puff of air and announced, “I thought I said I wanted an omelet.”

Kassidi’s blue eyes hardened and she shoved Carl hard and ran for the stairs crying over her shoulder, “You don’t love me!Go to hell, Carl!”

When she was out of sight, Mickey rounded on Carl and asked, “What the actual fuck, Carl?No pussy, no matter how good, is worth that shit.”

“You don’t even like pussy.”Carl muttered, sounding defensive.

Mickey flipped him off and Kev stepped in using his size advantage to corner Carl.He glared down at the teenager.“Carl you gotta rein in your girl, man.Let’s make this a Merry fucking Christmas, alright?”

***

“I may be going back to prison.”Mickey announced when he walked back into the master bedroom to see Ian stretching his long arms up over his head.

“What?Why?”Ian asked, wiping sleep from his eyes and looking concerned.

Mickey watched Ian try to flatten down stubborn curls that had developed overnight from going to bed with wet hair. Even when he was a mess, Ian was gorgeous.Mickey smiled and answered, “Because I am seriously considering murdering Carl’s girlfriend.”

Ian pulled himself up in the bed so he was leaning against the couch back. “I’ll get a shovel.We can bury her in the courtyard.Iggy can help.He’d good at digging holes.”

Mickey laughed.Ian joined him.

“What did she do?”Ian asked.

“Tried to start world war three over some French toast.”

Ian cocked his head.“Do I want to know?”

Mickey shrugged.“Probably not.More to come anyway since there is no way that stuck up little bitch isn’t gonna act up again.”

“Huh.”Ian grunted as he pulled the covers back and climbed out of bed.While stretching he chuckled, “Carl is probably getting his ass chewed right now.”

“Oh yeah.”Mickey agreed.It was very predictable.“She’ll nag him until he says he’s sorry.She’ll pretend to forgive him.They’ll have make up sex. He’ll think everything is fine again and then she’ll go for the jugular.”

Ian leaned in and kissed Mickey’s temple as he passed him on the way to the bathroom.“Yet another reason to be glad we’re gay.”

“Yep.”Mickey agreed though he had met men who could be just as dramatic and manipulative.He climbed back into bed and waited for Ian to come back.

Ian returned and stopped by Mickey’s side which was closer to the bathroom.Looking down at Mickey he asked, “Did you sleep okay?”

“Slept like the dead to be honest.”Mickey said which was true.It was part meds, part Ativan, part post ejaculation malaise and part just being so close to Ian.He reached up with one arm and with the other he pulled back the covers in invitation.“Come here.”

Ian cocked an eyebrow but then climbed in and laid down beside Mickey, flat on his back and staring at the ceiling.“You tell me if this gets too much, okay?”

“When haven’t I?”

“I’m just saying.”

Mickey felt good with Ian so close.He could feel the radiant heat of Ian’s body and he turned on his side to look at the other man.“Missed this.”

“Me too.”Ian agreed also rolling onto his side so they were facing each other.

Mickey reached forward and put a hand on Ian’s cheek drawing their faces closer together.Ian shimmied a little closer and brought their lips together in a lazy kiss.

Mickey melted into it.

Ian rolled a little onto his back, pulling Mickey with him so their chests were pressed against each other with Mickey on top and in control. 

There was a stab of fear, but it passed quickly as the kiss deepened.Mickey’s hands began to wander, running down the washboard of Ian’s abdomen and flirting around the waistband of Ian’s pajama bottoms.Ian drew back.“Gotta stop, Mick.Getting a little carried away here.”

Mickey was hard, unsatisfied and not at all freaked out.“Yeah.Me, too.So?” 

“So, I think we need to stop.”Ian said, kissing Mickey’s nose.

“I don’t wanna stop.”Mickey retorted.To prove it he pulled Ian into another kiss which the taller man returned.

Just as Mickey was contenting himself with the kiss and flirting with the idea of touching himself, Ian pulled back again.“How far are we pushing this?”

“As far as it can go.” Mickey replied.They had talked about this.Repeatedly.

“Really?”

“Got Dr. Mo on speed dial, and the pillbox is right there.Kiss me.”

Ian did.

It was okay.Or at least it was until Mickey put a leg over Ian’s.

***

“Hey boys.”Fiona called as she, Debbie, Vee and Svetlana tumbled up the stairs struggling under massive bundles of bags. 

This time, Fiona had not said a word about leaving the kids with Ian and Mickey who had stayed home to watch them. Since Mickey needed some alone time after the events of the morning, they kept an eye on the kids via Mildred and her many surveillance cameras. Liam ran the show and proved himself to be an exceptionally good babysitter for a nine year old.Ian only had to go break up one fight all day which had to be a record somewhere.

“We see Frank today.”Svetlana announced after she put her bags down.

“He’s in New York?”Ian asked though it was a stupid question.Where else would they have seen him?“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I text you.” Svetlana shrugged.“You do not read, is your fault, not mine.”

“Down by Times Square.He looks like hell.”Debbie said.

“Did he see you?”Ian asked as he pulled out his phone, disappointed to see he had left it in sleep mode.He had a bunch of missed texts and phone calls.Sure enough Svetlana had texted him at 9:49am.It was definitely a photo of Frank.“Fuck.”

“I don’t think so.”Debbie said as she shrugged out of her coat.

Frank could already be in the house hiding somewhere.Security had been on its lowest setting because Ian had not wanted to deal with his family’s reaction to Mildred’s real capabilities.Right now she was acting like a traditional security system announcing exterior doors opening and that was about it.

The absolute last thing Ian wanted was Frank anywhere near his home.It wouldn't be that hard for him to figure out where it was either.It was a historic home and Ian had mentioned it’s backstory at least twice, once in the Home & Gardens spread and again in an article in the Advocate. 

“Mildred, initiate Frank protocol.” Part of why he had allowed Ethan to install Mildred at all was because it would enable him to keep Frank out or at the very least document the break in so he could press charges.

“Who’s Mildred?”Debbie asked at the same time Vee side eyed him with her own query.“You have a protocol?”

“Fuck yes, I do.”Mildred had several lock down protocols depending on the degree of threat and whether the purpose was to keep people out or keep people in.The Frank protocol initiated a sweep of all cameras for Frank and any unrecognized faces. It also locked all the doors and windows and additionally would not allow any of the exterior doors to be opened if there was someone unknown within 10 feet outside.It could only be overridden by the fire alarms, carbon monoxide alarms or voice command from Ian and Mickey, though Mickey didn't know that yet. “Mildred is the security system.”

“Unable to initiate.Basement apartment bedroom window is ajar.”Mildred’s soft, feminine voice announced overhead.It sounded like Mother from Alien which had been deliberate on Ethan’s part when he built her.He thought it was funny.

“What the fuck?”Ian muttered as he made his way immediately toward the basement.Mildred was able to close and lock all of the windows and doors, both interior and exterior.She could close and lock the hurricane shutters Ian had had built into the design during a moment of what had to have been manic paranoia.It was strange if she couldn’t close one window. 

The rest of the people present followed him as he ran down the stairs.

The basement apartment door was open and he could hear music playing and over it Kassidi saying, “If you went to law school at NYU we could live here.This could be our own little place, wouldn’t that be great?”

He also smelled pot.

“Um, but I don’t think Ian and Mickey would go for that.”Carl said.

In the syrupy sweet voice Ian had grown to hate, Kassidi instructed, “You’ll just have to persuade them then.”

Ian pounded into the little bedroom to find the pair sitting on the bed smoking a spliff.Outraged for more reasons than one Ian practically shouted, “Are you fucking kidding me?”

Kassidi pulled her jacket tighter around herself and shuddered, “It’s too cold on the roof.”

“It’s not if you turn on the fucking heaters.”Ian snarled beginning to think Frank was only marginally worse than this girl.

She threw her hands up dramatically, “I thought fags were supposed to be fun!You’re no fun at all.”

With that comment she got up and flounced out of the room.

All eyes turned to Carl.Ian stared at the teenager and wondered how incredible the sex must be for his younger brother to be willing to put up with such a vile girl.“Carl, man.Seriously?”

Looking guilty, Carl muttered, “She’s just sort of hard to argue with.”

“Yeah, I noticed.”Ian replied, climbing onto the bed so he could close the window.It stuck.“You broke my window?”

“Nah, I don’t think so.” Carl denied, standing on the bed and pushing Ian out of his way so he could work on the window.“Kass used a stick from the kitchen to hold it open. It kept sliding closed.”

Sure enough the teenager pulled out what looked like a short wooden spoon.The window immediately glided shut. Ian turned to face his younger brother.“Frank’s in New York.It’s only a matter of time before he shows up here and if he gets in this house, I will hold you responsible.”

“He’s here?” Carl asked as he climbed down off the bed with Ian right behind him.

“Yeah, so keep that fucking windows closed.”Ian snapped.Then he said, “Mildred, initiate Frank protocol.”

“Protocol initiated.”

***

“Ian, you need to calm down.”Mickey had already said this three times, but the ginger idiot was still pacing back and forth. 

They continued to go around in circles as Ian once again said, “If that asshole...”

“You’ve locked down the house.The family knows he’s around.What more can you do?”Mickey repeated, again.This was getting ridiculous and he was starting to worry Ian was working himself into another suitcase situation.

Ian stopped and turned to look at Mickey, “I know, I just...he...”

When Ian trailed off into silence, Mickey said, “Even if he somehow gets in here, you can get him out.Just call the cops and report a B&E.They come quick in neighborhoods like this.”

“It’s not simple, Mickey.He fucking hates me.If I have him arrested I give him a platform to speak out against me.”Ian started pacing again.“Do you know what a media shit storm that would be?Heartless Ian Gallagher, co-founder of Claymore Studios, has ailing, homeless father arrested for trespass.Frank Gallagher, recovering addict and father of six, kicked out onto freezing streets at Christmas by his heartless son, co-founder of Claymore Studios.”

Huh, seen from that angle Ian did have a point.Frank was very good at appearing sympathetic to the uninitiated.He would have the entire country feeling sorry for him while Ian, the real victim, would be left twisting in the wind. 

“He’d do it, too.You know he would.” 

Yeah, Frank most certainly would. 

But Ian had also made his position crystal clear.If Frank’s end game was money, which it always was, then he would be bitterly disappointed.The _Ellen_ episode had proven that and also laid groundwork for self defense against an attack of this sort. 

It was never actually spoken, but the implication the blackmailer was a family member was pretty obvious. Ian had had nothing bad to say about any of his siblings and thus by process of elimination it had to be his father since Monica was dead. 

It would be ugly, that was certain, but Ian and the rest of the Gallaghers would get through it.

Besides, if Ian had Mildred set up with a Frank protocol then surely Claymore also had an equally well thought out plan for dealing with Frank in the press.

“You have lawyers and a PR department, Ian.I’m sure they have a response ready if he tries to pull that shit.”

“Yeah, that’s true, but it’s not just me, you know?It’s my family, my company, you.He’ll drag all of us through the fucking mud.”Ian replied.

“Gallaghers and Milkoviches worried about a little mud?Since when?”They had been looked down on, if seen at all, for most of their lives.This was just more of the same even if it was on a larger, more public scale.“So he makes us all look like heartless sons of bitches for a minute before your lawyers trot out his criminal history and set the record straight.So fucking what?”

Ian shook his head.“It’s not just us, it’s Claymore, too.”

“Claymore isn’t publicly traded so it’s not like your stock price can plummet.He can’t bankrupt you.Besides, do you actually think your players give two fucks about the news?”

“It’s not the news.It’s the blogs and social media.”

Mickey rolled his eyes.Ian could be way over dramatic sometimes.“Platforms well known for supporting abusive, drunk assholes instead of the guy who runs one of the country’s most inclusive companies and built games with nearly half a billion players.I’m sure all those players will be so angry at you they’ll never play your games again after Frank tells them you kicked him out.”

Ian’s eyes darkened angrily and his chin came up.Mickey had finally poked a real hole in Ian’s overinflated fear of Frank.Let the ginger idiot be pissed.Mickey was tired of talking about this. “Other than embarrassing you, what can he really do?”

“I’d rather not find out.”Ian growled.

“You probably won’t.You’ve got the house locked down so he can’t get in.You’ve got lawyers and PR people waiting to pounce if somehow he does.”Mickey summed up the situation which was perfectly reasonable to him, but Ian still looked worried.To put a different spin on the situation, Mickey offered, “Or if you wanna go Southside on his ass, Iggy and me can take care of him for you.”

Ian looked at him sharply and barked, “No.”

Mickey had expected the response. “So, everything you can do is done.Stop worrying about it.” 


	29. Frank in the Basement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So....I have a cough, no other signs/symptoms. I always have a cough this time of year due to allergies, but in an abundance of caution I have been sent home until I am cough free. So here I sit burning through my very limited PTO.
> 
> I guess, the bright side is more time to write, right?

“Ian, we need to talk.”

Mickey came awake to the sound of a woman’s voice.He sat up mumbling, “What the actual fuck?” 

“Ian, we need to talk.”

It took Mickey a minute to realize it was Mildred speaking.He sat up in bed and looked over at the sofa bed.“Ian, man, your house is talking to you.”

Ian had always slept hard, but with the added meds Ian said he was a zombie from about midnight until around six in the morning. Mickey had not witnessed it for himself yet. He tried a couple more times, practically shouting, to wake up Ian while Mildred kept repeating herself.Mickey was certain she would not stop until Ian answered her.

It was two in the morning. There had to be a reason the AI was trying so hard to get Ian’s attention.On a wing and a prayer, Mickey asked, “Mildred, can we talk?”

“Mickey, the Frank protocol has been breached.”

“Oh fuck,” Mickey muttered.How the hell had Frank pulled that off?

“Mildred, show me.”The TV blinked on showing the bedroom in the basement apartment.He watched the window rattle for a second and then open.A man, very clearly Frank, lowered himself in through it and collapsed on the bed.The time stamp was only a couple minutes ago.“Damn it.”

Frank appeared to be sleeping, but Mickey knew better than rely on appearances where Frank was concerned.Clueless to what the AI could really do, he asked, “Mildred, can you keep him in the basement?”

“The basement is secured.”

Mickey had no idea what that entailed, but it was time to force Ian awake so he could deal with this.Mickey swung his legs out of bed and put on his knee brace.Then he moved around to Ian’s bed and shook his shoulder trying to wake him.“Ian.Ian!Wake up, man.”

Nothing.

“Fuck it.”Mickey punched Ian hard in the chest.

Ian bolted upright gasping.“Wha?”

“Frank got in through the basement window.Mildred has him contained in the basement.”

Mickey expected Ian to leap out of bed and take charge of the situation.Instead he yawned, rubbed his eyes and muttered, “He did?” 

“Jesus.” Ian wasn’t with it.He reminded Mickey of trying to rouse a heroin junkie who had nodded off. He had a lot of experience with that, unfortunately.Ian was not going to be very useful right now.He would have to manage the situation himself.“Okay.Mildred, call 911.”

“Police have already been notified per Frank protocol.”

“Right, okay.”Mickey thought it might be helpful if he knew what all the protocol actually entailed, but he had other things to think about.

“Frank got in?”Ian asked, looking slightly more awake.

“Yeah, Ian.He got in.”Mickey confirmed looking for his sweatshirt and slippers.He needed to look at least semi respectable if he was going to pull off acting like this was his house.Putting Ian in front of the cops right now was not a good idea.They wouldn’t understand and there would be too much explaining to do. 

“How?”Ian asked, pushing himself to the edge of the bed like he was also going to get up.

“Through the window Kassidi and Carl were smoking at.”

“Fuck.”Ian got up, weaved for a second but caught his balance.“What time is it?”

“Two am.”

“Oh.Mickey, the meds, man...”

“Yeah, I figured.It’s okay.I got this.”

***

“There are two men in police uniforms at the front door.”Mildred announced as Mickey guided a half asleep Ian down to the living room.He found it interesting how Mildred worded that, lacking the blind acceptance that a person in a police uniform was actually a cop. 

“Mickey, I gotta go talk to them.”Ian said, yawning.

Involving Ian would not be a good idea.“No, I’m gonna talk to them.You just try to stay awake, okay?”

Ian yawned again and went to start the coffee pot.“I’m trying.The meds make it really hard.”

“I know.Maybe you could go wake up Fiona for me?”Mickey felt like maybe he needed some reinforcements, someone who could back up his story that he lived here and was Ian’s boyfriend.She certainly thought he was at least.

“Okay, yeah.”Ian nodded and started trudging his way to the stairs.

“Thanks.”Mickey said, following Ian to the stairs and making his way carefully down to the front door while shouting, “Jesus, I’m coming.Hold your fucking horses.”

They stopped banging apparently hearing him.Mickey tried to open the door, but it wouldn’t budge.“Hang on, something’s wrong with the door.”

“Mildred, open the front door.” He ordered, finding it very weird he was talking to the house.

“Unable to comply due to Frank protocol.”

Oh shit.Could he override her protocol so he could let in the fucking police?They pounded on the door again.“Mildred, can you cancel the Frank protocol and keep the basement locked down?”

“As you wish, Mickey.Frank Protocol cancelled.Basement lockdown continues.”

Mickey heaved a sigh of relief and pulled again on the door. It opened this time.“Sorry about that, still getting used to the security system.”

“Police.” One of the officers said, because the badges shoved in his face didn’t make that obvious. “You called about an intruder?”

Mickey stepped aside to let them in.As they entered, he said, “Yeah, my boyfriend’s alcoholic, drug addict stepfather broke in through a basement window.He’s locked in down there.I can show you the footage of the break in.”

“I’d like to see that.”One of the officers said while the other was surveying the room.Mickey led them over to the bar and said, “Mildred, show the break in.”

The TV screen came on and footage began to roll.

“What’s going on?”Fiona asked as she trotted down the stairs to find Mickey and two police officers staring at the TV behind the bar.

“Frank in the basement.”Mickey said.

Her eyes grew wide in surprise and then narrowed. “How?”

“The basement window.I guess they broke it after all.”As Mickey was explaining to Fiona and the officers, Carl entered the room and overheard them.

“Oh shit.”He muttered.

“Yeah, you didn’t rein in your girl like you said you would.”Mickey scolded.He had more to say, but not with cops present.

“What’s going on?”Lip asked as he came down off the stairs.

“Frank’s in the basement.”Mickey replied, annoyed he was having to repeat himself.

Lip went over to join his sister, brother and the cops at the bar watching the TV.“Oh shit.”

“Yeah.Maybe we should just wake everyone up so I don’t have to keep repeating myself.”Mickey muttered, mostly to himself as he watched Svetlana, Vee and Kev appear on the landing.Iggy’s face flashed briefly behind them before he disappeared back up the stairs.

“Where’s Ian?”Vee asked as she also came down.Fiona had taken over talking to the cops which was exactly what Mickey had hoped would happen.

“Dunno.He’s pretty heavily medicated, but by about six am he’s gonna be wide awake and super pissed.” Mickey turned to look at Carl. “I’d start packing your shit, Carl.”

“Why?”

“Because Kassidi is heading out on the next bus.”Mickey replied, more gleeful than he should be.Carl wasn’t a bad kid.He was just a kid having lots of sex with a psycho.Everyone had at least one similar skeleton in their closet.Carl had just gone for the win with how batshit his was.

Fiona had apparently been listening because she turned and looked between Mickey and Carl and said, “I’ll talk to him.”

“Can we get a copy of this?”One of the officers asked.

The other asked, “Can we see the live feed?”

Mickey nodded and said, “Mildred, show me live feed of Frank.”

One of the cops started talking into his mic and Fiona, Lip and Vee all closed in harder on the TV.Mickey asked, “What’s going on?”

“They’re calling an ambulance.”Fiona replied.

Mickey made his way back over toward the TV.“Why?”

Kev beat him there.“Oh shit.That looks like blood.”

“It is.”Lip nodded, face pale.“I remember when this happened the last time.His liver is failing again.” 

Fiona turned to Mickey.“What hospital will they take him to?”

“Probably Lenox Hill.It’s closest.”Mickey knew because early in the rehab of his hip he had felt the need to find out where the nearest emergency room was.

“I’m going to get dressed.”Fiona announced and she rushed up the stairs, brushing past a very drowsy looking Ian who was making his way down.Lip, Carl, Vee and Kevin also started making their way up the stairs.

“We need to get down there, sir.”One of the cops said.

“Mildred, unlock the basement.”Mickey said, feeling more confident because Mildred was smarter than he had thought.It was almost like maybe he could have a conversation with her which was weird as fuck, but also pretty cool.

“Basement unlocked.”

Mickey pointed to the stairs.“It’s one flight down and to your left when you come off the stairs.I’d show you, but...”

“No, you stay here, sir.We’ll secure the intruder.”The cops made their way to the stairs and started heading down.Mickey walked over to Ian who was leaning against the bar watching Frank on the screen.

The rest of the family would follow Frank to the hospital, of that, Mickey was certain.He was not sure if Ian would also want to go or not.“You wanna get dressed?”

“No.”Ian shook his head, yawning.“I don’t.”

“Mildred, can you alert the car service we need two sedans ASAP?”Because the family probably had not thought about transportation yet.He wasn’t sure this was something Mildred could do, but Ian didn’t correct him and a couple minutes later Mildred informed him the cars were en route.

Mickey opened the door for the EMT’s and pointed them where to go.More cops showed up around the same time and Mickey ended up giving a statement since Ian was not capable of much more than grunts and short sentences.

He had to explain who Ian was, what meds he was on and how those made him too tired to make much sense.Mickey had just talked the cops into letting him put Ian back to bed right about the same time the family made it back downstairs and the EMTs brought Frank up on a stretcher.

Frank smelled like a sewer full of dead animals.He was covered in blood and shit and piss all of which were dripping off the stretcher onto the floor.He was a shade of yellow so unreal it made Donald Trump’s orange hue look natural.

“I got you a couple cars coming.They’re taking him to Lenox Hill like I thought.”

“Thanks, Mickey.”Fiona said and for all Mickey knew she hated Frank, her brown eyes were sparkling with unshed, unwanted tears.“Do you mind if we leave the kids here?Liam’s going to come, but the girls don't need to see this.”

“Yeah, figured you would.”Mickey shrugged.

As the family left to go follow the ambulance to the hospital (including Kassidi who was trying to hide behind Carl but Mickey saw her anyway) one of the cops asked Mickey again for the footage of Frank’s break in.Ian had fallen asleep on one of the couches but Mickey figured out he could pretty much ask Mildred for anything. She was like _Jarvis_ from Iron Man. At his request Mildred emailed the footage of the break in to the cops.

It was nearly four in the morning when the cops finally left.There was blood and stink everywhere and Ian was still sleeping on the couch. 

Mickey had dealt with cops all his life, but for some reason this time wore him out.Every other time he had encountered cops he had understood ultimately his fate was to be imprisoned or killed.He had grown up knowing it and had accepted it.There was nothing he could do about it other than put it off for as long as he could. 

Now though, he had a future to protect.He had a son to raise.Old habits and patterns were easy to fall back into so remaining polite and helpful had taken more out of him than he had thought it would.

“You sleep.Children will wake soon.I will watch them.”Svetlana said as she came down the stairs.She muttered something in Russian while holding her nose. 

With a long suffering sigh she muttered, “I wish no more crutches.”

“Yeah, me too.”Mickey agreed though he didn’t know why it mattered to her.

She smirked at him.“You help clean without crutches.”

Mickey snorted, “Finally a reason to like the fuckers.”

***

Ian woke up from the strangest dream. 

He looked across the room at Mickey and smiled.The brunette had a baby face when he was sleeping and Ian thought he was beautiful.He got out of bed and stood for a moment watching the brunette sleep, resisting the urge to climb in beside him or at least kiss him because he did not want a black eye for all the pictures on Christmas morning.Shrugging it off with a smile, he went and got dressed for his run.

It was only as he went downstairs Ian discovered his dream was not a dream.The odor started on the second floor and got worse from there.The first floor smelled like a meat packing plant.Blood, shit and piss had been trampled all over the floor and there was a trail of it coming up from the basement.

Frank had been in his house.Cops and EMTs had been in his house.Mickey had handled it because he could not.Fuck.

For a moment Ian just stood there trying to remember if there had also been an altercation or anything that might mean this blood was anyone other than Frank’s.He didn’t think so and he was pretty sure he would remember if anyone else had been hurt.Mickey certainly would. 

Ian almost gave up on his run to go ask or get started cleaning the house, he wasn’t sure which, but in the end decided he needed to clear his head first.He ran.

When he got back, nothing had changed.The house was quiet and reeking of Frank.It made Ian’s stomach turn. 

He ran up the stairs to his room, unwilling to deal with the mess downstairs yet.Mickey was still asleep.

Ian tiptoed past him into the bathroom.Taking a shower now was probably a waste of time since there was a lot of cleaning to do, but it was part of his routine and he was feeling too shaken up already.He needed to just keep on as he usually would and deal with Frank later. 

He was in the shower when he heard the door click open and could see Mickey’s outline moving toward the toilet.

“Morning,” He called after the brunette.

“Hey.” Mickey greeted, voice gravely for his first word of the day.A couple minutes later he reappeared and asked, “You okay?”

“Yeah.”Ian said.He could sleep through the apocalypse if it happened between the hours of midnight and six in the morning.“Hey Mickey, I remember Frank was here last night, but no one else is hurt, are they?” 

“Nah, everyone else is fine.Frank was puking up blood.” Mickey told him and then started to brush his teeth.Ian semi hated himself for being relieved it was just Frank’s blood.He was finishing up his shower when Mickey reopened the conversation asking, “You run already?”

“That’s why I’m in the shower, genius.”Ian had always enjoyed poking at Mickey in the morning when the brunette was still half asleep and grumpy.“Wanna join me?”

Mickey paused long enough Ian thought he might be considering it, but then Mickey said, “Nah.I’m gonna go downstairs and get started on breakfast.We’ve got a lot to do today.”

“Okay, see you in a few.”Ian may have hoped for a second, but he knew Mickey would say no in the end.Mickey was getting more comfortable with Ian’s body, but Ian had yet to see even a midriff from Mickey.There were some serious body image issues Mickey was dealing with and like everything else between them it was a matter of time and trust. 

He finished his shower and got dressed in his least favorite sweatpants and a ratty long sleeved tee before heading down to deal with his family.

Most of them were in the kitchen when he arrived, standing around in their most expendable clothes drinking coffee.He made a beeline for his older sister.

Fiona put down her coffee cup and hugged him.When he pulled back he noticed her eyes were puffy and damp like she’d been crying.

“What happened with Frank?”Ian asked.

“He’s in ICU.”

“Figured.”Ian remembered very little from last night, but the scene on the first floor told him enough to know something very bad had happened to Frank.

“He was puking up blood like he did before the transplant.”

“Huh.”What she was describing were the inevitable consequences of a lifetime of alcoholism and drug abuse.It sounded like Frank was finally getting what he deserved.

“Look, Ian, I know you’re angry.After everything he did, he hitchhiked up here and broke into your house.I get it.You have every right to be furious, but this is the end.”

“As always, Frank’s timing is perfect.”Ian quipped around the tight ball forming in his throat.Mickey walked over and put an arm around him.Ian put his hand over Mickey’s on his chest and took a deep breath, trying to swallow down the anger that was bubbling back to the surface.

“He’s lucid enough to ask them to do everything they can.I talked to the doctor and he said ‘everything’ isn’t going to be much.Frank isn’t a candidate for another liver.He recommended hospice.”

“Like where people go to die?”Carl piped up.

“My nan was on hospice.There was a nurse with her 24 hours a day taking care of her.”Kassidi said softly from her place behind Carl.

Ian and Fiona were quick to move away from the pair and into a quieter corner of the room.Mickey followed them.

“Merry fucking Christmas, huh?”Mickey muttered watching Ian closely and squeezing him a little tighter.

Fiona let out a dark chuckle.“I know, but this is it, for real this time. He’s finally reached the last of his nine lives.I was thinking maybe, for the kids, we could bring him here...”

“Not a chance in hell.”Ian refused, cutting her off he felt so vehemently about it.

Mickey agreed wholeheartedly. 

She tried again.“For the kids, though, they need...”

“I’ll pay for a hospice facility, but he’s not coming back here, Fiona.” He would also pay for the funeral and the burial and the hospital bills so his family could have the closure they wanted. 

“You’d do that?For Frank?”

“If it was for Frank I’d let him rot in an alley somewhere and forget about it.” Ian answered.“I’ll do it for the family.So, yeah, find a hospice you like and we’ll get him moved.You guys can stay here as long as it takes, or if the doctors think he can tolerate it, I’ll have him flown back to Chicago and you can put him in hospice there if you want.Whatever will make this easiest on the family, that’s what I’ll do, but he’s not coming back into this house.”

She offered him a sad little smile.“Okay.I’ll call the hospital and see what they can do on Christmas Eve.Thanks, Ian.”

“I love you, Fi.”He put his arms around her again and pulled her close. 

She held onto him for a long moment and whispered,“Love you, too.” 

Then she turned to the rest of the people in the room.“Alright troops, lets get this mess cleaned up!”


	30. Where Do People Go When They Die?

“Papa, where do people go when they die?”

Fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck, fuck.Mickey looked around the sixth floor play room hoping somehow another adult had magically showed up to rescue him from this question.

All five pairs of childish eyes were on him, boring into him like laser beams.

Fuck his fucking crutches and the assholes who decided since he couldn’t help with the cleaning he could watch the kids.He had argued against this, of course, because who in their right mind would trust him with five kids who probably had a million questions he had no idea how to answer?

The pushback he got was that none of them were really any more prepared than he was and that with all other hands working on the clean up it would go faster.Mickey thought maybe Mildred should watch them and he would watch her, but he was vetoed.They thought it would be important to have an adult present since emotions were going to be running high.

They were all going to be pissed at him later when their kids were traumatized, but whatever.His complaints about the dangers of entrusting him with tender young minds had been registered and ignored.Fuck them.

“Papa?”Yevgeny asked again.

“I don’t know, bud.”Mickey answered.He had never really bothered to worry about it since it wasn’t something he had control over.

“They go to heaven if they were good or hell if they were bad.”One of the twins said with all the confidence of a child who attended Catholic school.

“Frank’s definitely going to hell.”Liam muttered, a weird half sad, half angry look on his face.

“What’s hell?”Asked Frannie.

This, this is hell, Mickey wanted to say, but instead he said what he remembered from his own brief time in the Orthodox Church.“Hell is...”

Gemma cut him off.“It’s the lake of fire where bad people burn forever and ever for their sins.”

All of the kids stared at Gemma for a moment and then five sets of eyes turned back on Mickey.Frannie asked, “What are sins?”

Mickey had been christened and he had gone to classes long enough to be confirmed and baptized.After that, he went to church for weddings, funerals and the random Milkovich christening or baptism he’d been unable to get out of, which meant he knew basically fuck all about church.He could not repeat the 10 commandments if his life depended on it, but he did remember all of them basically boiled down to, “Things like lying, stealing, or killing people.”

“If I tell a lie I’ll go to hell?”Frannie asked, looking very worried.

Mickey was at a loss for words.He was not the guy for this job. 

Amy nodded solemnly.“If you don’t admit it and tell God you’re sorry.”

“Can Frank still say he’s sorry?”Yevgeny asked.

“Yeah, he could.”Mickey nodded, relieved the conversation had shifted away from death.

“He won’t.”Liam muttered.

“Who wants to play _Ocean Apocalypse_?”Mickey asked, trying to redirect them onto something that did not involve talking.He didn’t want to try and explain Frank’s behavior or choices if he could distract them with one of the more kid friendly games Claymore made.

“Why is he dying?”Asked Amy.

So that worked.With a sigh Mickey answered, “Because his liver is failing.”

“Why?”Amy prodded.

“Because Frank is an alcoholic.”

There was a moment of silence during which Mickey wished out of everything they were talking about this was not the one thing they all understood.

“What’s a liver?”Yevgeny asked.

“Um, hang on a sec.” Mickey pulled out his phone and looked up ‘how to explain the liver to kids’.He read for a second and then said, “The liver is an organ in your body that helps with turning food into fuel and also acts as the body’s filter.”

“Oh.So if it doesn’t work right you can’t eat?”

“Well, you can, but your body can’t use it to fuel itself and it also can’t filter out waste products so you just get sicker and sicker.”

“Until you die.”Liam said.

Mickey shrugged.“Yeah, basically.”

“Does everybody die?”Asked Frannie.

“Yeah, we all die someday.”No point lying to the kid.

“When?”She asked.

“It’s different for everybody, but mostly when we get really old.”

Yevgeny asked, “If I tell a lie and then I die, do I have to go to hell?”

Mickey knew Yevgeny was going to classes at the Russian Orthodox Church, but apparently this was a subject those fuckers had chosen to leave for Mickey to explain.“Um...”

“That’s what the Bible says.”Gemma piped up.

All eyes turned to him for confirmation.How the fuck should Mickey know?Not wanting to freak them out, Mickey avoided the question by saying, “Not everyone believes in the Bible.Some people think when you die you get recycled and come back as someone new.Some people think nothing happens at all, you just stop existing.No one really knows because no one has ever come back from the dead.”

“Jesus did.”

Should have seen that one coming, Milkovich.Again, he tried to change the subject.“Why don’t we go make some cookies for Santa?”

The children were not to be deterred though.Yevgeny asked, “Does it hurt to die?”

“I don’t think dying hurts,” And he would have left it there, but he didn’t want to lie either.If any of them saw Frank, they would know he was in pain.“But sometimes the things that you die from can.”

“What makes you to die?”

“You’re way too young and healthy to worry about dying.”Mickey replied and he hoped that was true.Accidents and childhood diseases were out there as possibilities but it was better not to think about those.

“Are you gonna die, Papa?”Yevgeny asked, looking very concerned.

“Not for a long time, bud.”Mickey hoped that was true.“Okay, that’s enough.No more talk about dying.Why don’t we all watch _Leap_?” 

Frannie, Gemma and Amy were obsessed with this movie and ran to find seats in front if the huge home theater screen.

Liam and Yevgeny were less enthused.“Do we have to?”

On a normal day Mickey would rather scratch his own eyes out, but today was not a normal day. 

“Yeah, we have to.”Mickey told the boys as he started searching for the remote.

***

Ian stared out the window at the bloody mattress Lip and Iggy had carried out to the curb earlier.The snow was coming down thick and heavy, already starting to blanket it white, hiding the stains. 

The last of the cleaning rags and some towels were being thrown into a trash bag by Svetlana when Fiona walked over to him.They both stared out the window for a moment before Fiona asked, “Are you going to do anything about Kassidi?”

Glad to be distracted, Ian thought about Carl’s girlfriend for a second.She had been a whirling dervish cleaning up the mess she had helped make.She had also been extra quiet, hiding in the background behind Carl.He had barely noticed her since the window incident.Ian shrugged, “Haven’t decided yet.Right now she’s not annoying me so, if she can keep it up, I don't wanna ruin Christmas for Carl if I don’t have to.”

Christmas was already pretty damn ruined, but as he well knew it could still get worse.His family had plumbed the depths of horrible holidays. Monica’s suicide attempt had scarred all of them, but Ian was certain even with that in their past they had not yet reached the bottom.

“Yeah, I get you.” She sighed, glancing over at the couple sitting with their heads together at the bar.“Hopefully once he’s back at school he’ll forget about her.”

“We should be so lucky.” 

Fiona put a hand on his shoulder.“You doing okay?”

Ian instantly bristled, “Fuck, Fi.Really?”

“I’m not asking about your meds.”She denied quickly.“Our dad’s dying.Are you okay?”

It was still about his meds, but at least this time there was a valid reason for the concern.Mickey had asked him the same thing at least three times today.Ian understood.This was about as stressful as a situation could get.It’s why he stuck to his routine this morning and went running in spite of not really wanting to.This could tip him over the edge, but so far, so good.“Yeah.He’s not my father anyway.”

“Yeah, but he...” She paused. “...didn’t raise you.Jesus, he didn’t raise any of us.He just showed up when we really needed him.”

“Romanticizing him already?”Ian asked, because people always did that when someone died. “Because I remember having to hunt him down and force him to show up when we needed him.He only came on his own if there was something in it for him.”

She frowned, mashing her lips together the way she did when something bothered her and she was trying not to allow it.“Yeah, you’re right.It’s just, after this, we’re all orphans, you know?I’m so glad I have guardianship of Liam and Carl already.”

“Yeah, that’s good.” The courts likely wouldn’t have fought her on custody anyway, but at least this way it was already settled.One less thing to worry about.“For all intents and purposes you’ve been our parent anyway.This family never would have made it without you.”

She nodded and wiped at her eyes.

As much as she pissed him off sometimes with her nosy, controlling bullshit, Ian was grateful Fiona had stepped in and taken over the role of mom for all of them.He reached out and put an arm around her pulling her in close to him.Into her hair he said, “You’re the glue, Fiona.You kept us together with a roof over our heads and food in our bellies.You made us go to school and one of us even graduated.” 

They both chuckled.

“Carl and Liam probably will, too.”Ian added.She inhaled a breath that sounded like a sob and Ian squeezed.“You did good being our sister-mom.”

She turned into the hug and lingered there for a long moment.Ian just held her. 

Finally she let go and took a step back.She rubbed her eyes and sniffled once before she changed the subject.“He refuses to go to hospice.Says he isn’t dying.”

It took Ian a second to catch up.They were back to talking about Frank.“Oh.”

“He wants to go home.”

“Great.”Why the fuck had the old bastard hitchhiked to New York if he wanted to go home immediately after getting here?Ian sighed.Nothing was ever easy with Frank.“You want him in the house again?”

She let her hair down and then started twisting it back up into another bun.“Fuck no, I don’t want to take him home, but I think for Liam, Carl and Debbie it’s important.”

Ian glanced around the room.Carl and Debbie were both sitting at the bar with Kassidi, Kev, Vee, Ford, Iggy and Mandy.Svetlana had just left to go help Mickey with the kids. 

All of them were drinking and no one looked particularly distressed.Ian knew Debbie had always had a soft spot for Frank, but he didn’t think that spot was so soft she would want to play nursemaid.Carl might be interested in watching Frank rot to death, but not because he cared.He was just fascinated by death. 

Liam, who was upstairs away from the blood and stink with the other kids was the one Ian worried about.He was only nine and he and Frank had a relationship that was vastly different from the rest of them.Still, watching Frank die the first time had been awful and he didn’t want Liam to have to go through that if it could be avoided.According to Lip and Fiona he was even sicker this time.“Have you asked them?”

She shook her head.“I think we should have a family meeting tonight after dinner to talk about the options and decide what we want to do.”

“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.”Ian agreed.

***

“Hey, how you doing?”Ian asked as he entered the kitchen and planted a kiss on the side of Mickey’s head.He was fresh from the shower but still felt like he smelled like death.

Mickey immediately swatted him away, clearly pissed off.“You ever abandon me with five fucking kids again I will chop your balls off and feed ‘em to you.”

Ian cocked his head at the vehemence.“At least you didn’t have to clean shit, piss, vomit and blood off three floors of this huge ass house.That’s worse.”

“No fucking way.I just spent the last two hours talking about death and dying with little kids.”Mickey jabbed him in the chest with the butt end of a soup ladle.Then he turned and glared around at the people who had been gathering to eat the lunch he was making.“Any of you have complaints about your kids’ questions, go fuck yourself.You shouldn’t have left them with me.”

“What did you tell them?”Vee asked.

Mickey glared at her.“As little as fucking possible which was still way too damn much.” 

Kevin burst out laughing and Ian could not help himself as he joined in.Mickey could be very dramatic at times and he had probably done as good a job as any of them would have in the same situation. 

“You’re all a bunch of assholes.”Mickey growled and turned his back on the group to resume stirring the huge pot of tomato basil bisque he was making.

When he stopped giggling Kev said, “Thanks for taking one for the team there, Mickey.”

Mickey turned around to retort when Iggy passed by on the stairs followed by Mandy who called out, “Hey, we’re out.Be back for dinner tonight.”

“Where’re you going?”Mickey asked.

“Shopping.Catch you later, ass wipe.”She flipped him off with a smile and disappeared down the landing.

“Iggy shops?”Fiona asked.

Lip, who had a glass of whiskey in his hand, sloshed it gesturing toward the stairs, “New York is an alternate reality in which Milkoviches do weird things like cook, go to college and hold down legit jobs.Apparently they shop now, too.”

“Fuck off, Lip.” Mickey growled flipping him the bird.

“Mandy said they’re doing some last minute Christmas shopping.”Ian told him.Iggy basically came to New York with the shirt on his back so Mandy was trying to help get him on his feet just like she had with Mickey when he first got out of prison.

She had already reached out to a friend of hers to get Iggy an interview at a Brooklyn garage since he did have some experience working on cars.Taking care of people seemed to be what came naturally to her even if she insisted it didn't.Like Mickey she had a hard exterior shell hiding a soft center and like her older brother she failed to recognize this about herself.It was one of Ian’s favorite things about both of them.

Iggy didn’t have pajamas for tomorrow morning or an ugly Christmas sweater for tonight’s dinner.She was trying to fix that so he would feel more a part of the ‘family’.

It had happened mostly by accident, but the New York family included himself, Svetlana and Yevgeny, Mickey and Mandy.Like a traditional family, they were linked together in ways they could not easily separate themselves from.Iggy was a new variable, but there would be plenty more of those when Mandy or Svetlana got married and had children or if any of his siblings decided to move to New York. 

While Ian was musing on the future of their family, Mickey announced the soup was ready.It was as amazing as Ian had come to expect from Mickey’s cooking.Together with homemade sourdough bread and artisan cheese, it was culinary heaven. 

As he ate, Ian half listened to the small talk around him but his attention kept drifting over to Mickey.

He was wearing blue jeans and a black sweater.Ian had always liked Mickey in black since it highlighted his milky skin tone and brought out the blue of his eyes and the red of his full lips.Mickey had gained a little weight which filled in his cheeks some, making him look less gaunt. 

It was pleasant to watch him bustle around his kitchen as if the crutches weren’t even there anymore and barking orders at people about how his food was supposed to be served and eaten. Mickey was still grumpy about being alone with the kids, which was part of why he was being such a diva, but he was starting to mellow out and engage in the conversations around him.

Ian smiled. 

Even thinking of Mickey as a diva felt dangerous because he knew if he ever said it aloud he would be clobbered for it.Still, the Mickey he had met all those years ago wouldn’t even recognize the man he was now. Mickey had come a long way from the boy who hid behind snark and aggression.He was less defensive and no where near as quick to assume the worst.Mickey smiled more now, and damn, did Ian love his smile.

Before his thoughts carried him away, Ian reminded himself of all the things they still had to do today.He had a couple more gifts to wrap and Mickey wanted to get started on the prep work for Christmas dinner.Hopefully neither would take too long because what Ian really wanted to do was go back upstairs and be alone with Mickey.

He went back for seconds of the soup pausing along the way to squeeze Mickey’s shoulder.Mickey watched him as he was returning to his chair.

Fiona announced, “Ford and I are going to head to the hospital.”

Debbie immediately pushed back from her place at the table with her daughter.“Frannie and me will go with you.”

Ian had not thought Mickey was paying attention to them since he had been talking to Kev and Vee, but the shorter man said, “Leave the kid here.Don’t wanna give her nightmares and shit.”

“She’s his granddaughter, though.” Debbie protested. “He’ll want to see her.”

“If you think taking her to see him is what’s best for her then you do it, but just know what she sees now will be the image of him that will be burned into her memory forever.”Lip weighed in.His eyes were bloodshot and his cheeks were flushed but his speech wasn’t slurred.It appeared to Ian Lip had given up even the pretense of his ‘system’ and was only a drink or two away from being shit faced and it was barely noon.

After some further discussion, Debbie and Lip went with Ford and Fiona to the hospital.Mickey was sitting with Kev, Vee and Svetlana.They were laughing about something.Liam and Yev were playing a video game and Gemma, Amy and Frannie were watching something on an iPad. 

Ian stood up and stretched before he took his bowl into the kitchen to rinse and put in the dishwasher.Then he made his way over toward Mickey and the rest of the group.He put his hands on Mickey’s shoulders and squeezed.“I’ve still got a couple things to wrap.I’ll be in my office, okay?”


	31. Family Meeting

It had been one hell of a day.Mickey had never done a real Christmas before but he was pretty sure it wasn’t supposed to be like this.The people who had gone to the hospital had made it back a couple hours later and then everyone had basically retreated to neutral corners and the pile of presents under the living room tree steadily grew from that point onward. 

Mickey had already wrapped all of his which was why they looked so shitty, but at least it was done.He made more bread thinking they were doing French toast again for Christmas breakfast only to be told Carl and Kassidi were making waffles instead.That annoyed him, but making bread was therapeutic so he shrugged it off.Then he spent a while doing some of the prep work for Christmas dinner which he was planning to make with the help of Fiona, Svetlana, Vee and Debbie. 

He was making a garlic and rosemary encrusted beef tenderloin with a cognac cream sauce, roasted root vegetables, au gratin potatoes, fresh baked dinner rolls and a salad with poached pears, walnuts and blue cheese. 

He was also making bacon wrapped asparagus, artichoke dip, baked brie with fig compote and veggie and cheese plates as appetizers since they were skipping lunch to make room for dinner. He’d be spending most of today and tomorrow in the kitchen, but that was sort of the point. 

He did have to make room for some other people in the kitchen since Debbie was making pumpkin pies and fresh whipped cream for dessert to go with all the cookies Svetlana and Vee were planning to make with the kids tonight to keep them occupied while the Gallaghers worked through what to do about Frank.

Ian had thankfully ordered in dinner tonight which had come from a really good seafood restaurant.There were some looks exchanged and a few mutters, but Mickey ignored them.As if anyone could really complain about free Chilean sea bass, scallops and lobster, but what the fuck ever. 

Mickey had drank more tonight than he had in a long while, which seemed true of the table at large.They had polished off six bottles of wine and Kev had changed out a keg.Ian had even brought up another bottle of Macallan scotch for Lip.

Mickey was about to ask the redhead if he was okay when Svetlana stood up and announced, “Children, we make cookies for Santa now, yes?”

Amy and Gemma were out of their chairs like rockets heading up the stairs to the kitchen.Frannie was right behind them.Vee rolled her eyes and went after them.

“Do I have to?”Yev asked Mickey in a whiny voice. 

“Yeah, little man.” Mickey confirmed then he jutted his chin toward his brother and suggested,“Maybe you can kick your uncle Iggy’s ass at _Ocean Apocalypse_.”

“Cool! Come on, Iggy!”Yevgeny cried, leaping out of his chair to grab Iggy’s arm and start dragging him upstairs.Over his shoulder he called, “Come on, Liam, you can play, too.”

“Liam’s gonna stay here for a bit, so you go on.He’ll be up in a while.”Fiona told his son.Mandy and Kev followed Yevgeny up the stairs.

Mickey got up to join the exodus of non-Gallaghers when Ian grabbed his arm and pulled him back down.“Stay, please.”

Ford also kept his seat by Fiona and Kassidi didn't get up from her seat either. 

Without preamble Lip announced, “Okay.I had a long talk with the doctor and it’s bad news all the way around.Frank’s liver is shit.He’s on dialysis because his kidney is shit and his heart is barely pumping.”

The group was silent for a time while that sunk in. 

“So what are the options?”Debbie asked, glancing at Ian from under her lashes.

“The doctor recommended hospice.”Lip said.

Fiona added, “I talked to the social worker today and she can get him a placement, but Frank is lucid and able to make his own decisions.We can’t make him go to hospice.”

“There’s going to come a point when he isn’t lucid anymore and then we can send him.”Lip said. 

“Will it even matter then?”Liam asked.

“I just want him to be comfortable.He may be an asshole, but he’s still our dad.”Debbie said as she stood up and went to the bar to pour herself another beer.

“Does he have more time if he stays at the hospital?”Liam asked.It was easy sometimes to forget he was only nine with how mature he was most of the time, but right now he looked like the scared little kid he was.Fiona moved her seat closer to him and put an arm over his shoulders.

Lip shrugged.“Maybe, but all of that time will be spent hooked up to IVs and machines while getting poked and prodded by people who know nothing they do will help.”

“So what happens at hospice?”Debbie asked and Mickey realized she also looked like the teenager she was and not the grown up, hardworking welder mom she usually seemed to be.

Fiona let her gaze roam over both her younger siblings as she said, “They take him off the machines and the IVs.They hop him up with all the benzos and narcs he wants to make him comfortable until he passes away.”

Carl snorted and said, “We could do that at home.”

“He wouldn’t survive the ambulance back to Chicago.”Lip informed them.“I asked.”

Debbie had been looking closer and closer to tears.She wiped angrily at her face and suggested, “We could bring him here...”

“No.”Ian finally spoke, reaching under the table and gripping Mickey’s thigh hard. “I’ll pay to have him airlifted back to Chicago if you want, or put him in the best hospice in New York.I’ll foot the bill for him to stay in the hospital, whatever you guys want, but he’s not coming back into this house.”

All eyes were on Ian whose chin had come up in determination.Mickey knew that look.So did all the Gallaghers and Lip, who was definitely drunk, opened his mouth only to be cut off by Fiona saying, “Lip, don’t.I think Ian’s being more than generous right now.”

“You could buy him a liver on the black market though.”Kassidi suggested, hanging on to Carl’s arm and leaning on him as if it were her father they were talking about and not Frank.

The level of concern being expressed in this room was beyond Mickey.Frank had abused, used, tormented, belittled, robbed blind, and sold out his children over and over again and yet here they were trying to do right by him.It was bizarre and he could not understand it.

“He’s got multi-organ failure, Kass.Even if Ian somehow got a liver, kidneys and a heart, Frank wouldn’t survive the surgery.He’s too sick.” Fiona gently informed the group.

“Do they think he’ll make the New Year?”Carl asked.

Fiona shook her head.“Probably not.”

“I can’t afford to miss more work.”Debbie muttered.She had taken off to come to New York.She was too low on the totem pole and too female to be cut the same kind of slack a more senior male welder might get in a similar situation.

Ford said his first words of the discussion.“Your dad’s dying.Bereavement pay should cover some of it.”

“I’ll offset whatever isn’t covered,” Ian offered immediately.Then he backed off adding, “if you want.”

Debbie glared at him, and it was Mickey’s first glimpse of her ingratitude which Ian kindly called independence.“I don’t want your money.”

“You don't have to take it.”Ian shrugged as if her refusal didn’t hurt him.

“What happens if we go back to Chicago, but Frank stays in New York?”Liam asked, looking at Ian and then at Mickey.

“When he dies I’ll have his body shipped back to Chicago.We’ll bury him with Monica.”Ian replied.

“Will you go see him?”Debbie pressed.

Ian shook his head and gripped Mickey’s thigh harder.“Mickey has surgery on Friday, Debs.He’s my priority.” 

“So Frank will just die alone?”Debbie asked, voice cracking.

“Unless someone else decides to stay, I guess so.”Ian replied.Mickey could tell the redhead was waiting for the other shoe to drop. Someone was about to get angry at him for not doing more.It pissed Mickey off.

“I’ve got a lot of pre-reading I have to do for next semester.”Lip said, and Mickey almost retorted they could have his books and shit shipped to New York so he could stay with his dad, but this was not his family and he shouldn’t butt in.God, did he want to though.

Fiona also had an excuse.“Rents are due on the first and I have to be there to collect.”

“I’ll lose my job if I don’t go back.”Debbie said.

“I ship out to be back to school on the 6th.Gotta get ready for that.” Carl agreed and immediately Kassidi’s face fell and she snarled something in his ear.Carl pushed her away a little and muttered, “Not now, Kass.”

Unable to bite his tongue anymore Mickey asked, “So, you’re all gonna just leave Frank here for Ian to deal with?Ian ain’t even his kid, for fuck’s sake.”

“The rest of us have jobs and school, not millions.”Lip snapped back.

And just like that the fight that had been brewing since Lip had entered the house burst to life as Ian snarled, “You think I don’t work hard?”

“Nah, rich boy, you got lucky!You’re just _exploiting_ Garry’s genius because you aren’t fucking smart enough to pull off...”

Surprising Mickey and everyone else, Ian launched himself across the table at Lip.They grappled for a moment before Ford was able to get them broken apart.“Simmer down.Simmer down, lads.”

Ian wiped his lip and checked for blood then he glared at each and every one of his family as he said, “If you go home, Frank dies alone in the hospital. Ends of story. He’s nothing to me, not even a God damn sperm donor.”

With that he left.

“Ian...” Fiona called after him, but it was too late and once again Mickey was left holding the bag.Thankfully this time he was pissed off enough to want to carry it.

“Just let him go, Fiona.”Ford told her, hands on her shoulders.

“So, that was productive.Good job.”Mickey snarked as he rose from his chair.“After the shit Frank pulled you actually expect Ian to want anything to do with that fucker?He’s doing this for _you_ , you ungrateful assholes.If you don't want your fucking douchebag of a father to die alone, figure your shit out.”

Lip muttered something Mickey didn’t hear, but that didn’t matter.He knew it was something nasty from the smug look on the blonde’s face.He paused and turned to glare at Lip.“Oh, and have you ever met Garry?” Mickey had not had met him yet either, but he knew, “No one would know or give a fuck about Garry’s genius if Ian hadn’t been _smart_ enough to see it and learn how to work with him.They are a team.You fuck with Ian like that again and you and I are gonna have a serious problem, you got me?”

“Mickey...” Fiona tried.

“No!What just happened here, that was some Frank bullshit.Not that I’m surprised, you are turning into a second rate Frank clone.Maybe you should go back to the hospital and take a good long look at your future, you arrogant, jealous fuck!”

With that Mickey left the room.

***

The moment Ian stomped up the stairs, he heard Svetlana call out to him, “Carrot boy, you come help with cookies, yes?”

He paused on the landing to offer an excuse to everyone who was now staring at him, “Svet, I...”

“We make pryaniki.You come.”She cut him off and held out a hand to him.The look in her eyes dared him to defy her.

Ian sighed.

When he entered the kitchen she put an arm around him.“You are good man.Your family is not easy, but that is family.Always complicated.”

“Yeah.”Ian agreed.He wished he had handled that better.As he was surveying the counter looking for a job he could do, Mickey stumped onto the landing.He looked murderous.

“Come on.”Mickey growled.

Ian shared a look with Svetlana and then went over to the landing.“Where are we going?”

“To burn off some of this rage.”Mickey replied as he stabbed at the elevator. 

“I’m okay.” He was.As angry as he had been, it had already ebbed.This was hard for all of them so it made sense it would intensify the already festering wound Lip’s pride had suffered. 

“Fine, to burn off some of _my_ rage.” Mickey groused as the elevator dumped them out on the third floor.“I hate how self righteous your fucking family can be.They’re no better than Frank sometimes.”

“As much of an asshole as he is, Mickey, he’s the only parent we ever really had.He hates me, but he doesn’t hate them.In his own twisted, fucked up way he thought he was looking out for them.”

Mickey arched an incredulous eyebrow at him.

“Okay, so maybe not.They’re just scared, Mickey.I mean, I don’t think anyone ever really thought Frank would die.He’s fucking immortal, you know?He’s a shitty father, but he’s the only one any of us ever had and he came through when he had to.Mighta been a nail biter, but he did come through.Facing his death is sort of freaking me out and I literally hate the man, so imagine what it’s doing to them.”

“You’re making excuses.”Mickey retorted as they entered the bedroom and Ian closed the door behind them.

“Yeah, maybe so, but think about it.We’re about to be orphans.That’s fucking with me a little, too.”

“Yeah, but you’re not being an asshole about it.”Mickey said, sitting on the couch and dropping the crutches against one fo the chairs.He looked tired.Ian felt tired.

Mickey and Lip had never gotten along.Lip had always been very condescending when talking to or about Mickey.Now Mickey was the one with the college degree and high paying job.That had to just eat Lip up inside.“Lip was supposed to be the family savior.We all looked to him and then I got lucky...”

Mickey cut him off.“No, you saw an opportunity for both you and Garry and you ran with it.That’s not luck.That’s fucking smart.Garry couldn’t have done this without you any more than you could have without him.Claymore needed both of you to make shit happen.”

Ian slumped down on the couch beside Mickey and then rolled around until his head was in the other man’s lap.Mickey’s fingers immediately started combing through Ian’s hair.It was nice and nice was just what Ian needed at the moment.“I’m just saying, I get why Lip acts this way.I usurped his role in the family and it kills him.He’s eating a fuck ton of humble pie.”

Mickey snorted and without looking Ian knew the older man could not have cared less how Lip felt about anything.After a moment, Mickey said, “And he’s a mean drunk.”

“Yeah, and that.”Ian chuckled darkly.Lip was not a pleasant drunk any more than Frank was.“Fiona’s scared.Debbie likes to think she’s grown, but she’s not.Carl is a lost ball in high grass and Liam is only nine.Poor kid.”

Mickey nodded and his hand travelled down to Ian’s chest. After a while of just sitting there breathing together, Mickey said, “I think Iggy’s moving into my room at our apartment.”

“Yeah, probably.”Ian agreed though he knew this was true.In fact, over his protests that it as much as he wanted Mickey to live with him, the siblings really should talk about it first, it was already done. He thought for a second about just telling him, but that was for Mandy and Iggy to break to Mickey.Having his best friend be the love of his life’s sister was fucking hard sometimes.

“It’s bullshit.”Mickey groused.

“It’s inevitable.You belong here with me.” Ian said because sometimes things could be spoken into existence.

“Maybe.”Mickey shrugged as his hand on Ian’s chest moved down to his ribs.

“I love you.”Ian said, because maybe if he said it enough Mickey would finally believe him.

“I know.”

Ian opened his eyes and looked up at Mickey.He had said that before, but something about this time felt different, like maybe he finally really did know.Mickey had not returned the words and didn’t seem to be inclined to do it now either, which stung a little, but Ian understood.Broken trust wasn’t easily mended. 

Not wanting to let the moment drag out uncomfortably, he asked, “Will you help me get through this?”

Mickey looked down at him.“Maybe I should put off my surgery.”

“No.You need to get that done.”Ian said as Mickey’s hand drifted down onto his abdomen.It was important Mickey get back on his feet and self sufficient again.Having his independence back would restore some of his confidence.It would also remove another obstacle between them.Ian sat up and shifted so they were leaning against each other shoulder to shoulder.“My family fights sometimes, but we work it out.You and me, we’ll work this out, too.”

Mickey shrugged and Ian knew the older man wanted to move ahead with the surgery. 

It seemed impossible today was Christmas Eve given the general lack of joy and merry making.“Shitty Christmas Eve.”

“Wouldn’t really know. Grew up with the Grinch, man.”

Ian had never thought about how the Milkoviches spent their holidays.It had never occurred to him they might not celebrate at all.“Like no tree or presents?”

“We had a tree a couple times. Dunno where mom got it.”

“That makes this an even shittier Christmas Eve.”Ian muttered.Mandy had never mentioned it five years ago when they had a shitty little tree in their first apartment together (nor any of the years since). Looking back on it, though she had been extra happy.It made Ian’s heart hurt.He had been abused and neglected, but he would never truly understand the deprivation of the Milkovich house of horrors.

“We could make it less shitty.”Mickey suggested with a sly grin.He leaned over and pulled Ian in for a kiss, long and slow. 

Ian knew he was being distracted from what Mickey had shared.He also knew attempting to probe deeper would be a waste of time.

Instead, he arched into the kiss and adjusted how he was sitting to more fully embrace the brunette.Before he knew it his sweater was off and Mickey’s hands were roaming over his bare skin.When Mickey’s fingers started undoing the button fly of his jeans Ian pulled back.He didn’t want to, but this was starting to go too far again.“Insatiable much?”

“Shut up and kiss me.”Mickey demanded and Ian gave in to it again, letting his hands drift down Mickey’s back for the first time to his waist.Rather than protest, Mickey pulled him closer.

Ian let his hands run up and down Mickey’s back until he had one buried in black hair and the other on Mickey’s waist at the place jeans and sweater met.Mickey pulled back a little and Ian sighed, “Fuck, I love this.I love you.”

“I want to touch you.”Mickey’s hands were back trying to unbutton Ian’s fly.

It felt good, so good.He didn’t want to put a stop to it, but wisdom prevailed enough for him to say, “Mickey...”

“I want to touch you.” Mickey repeated, not stopping with his unbuttoning efforts.“Am I going to freak myself out?Probably, but I still want to touch you.”

Ian thought he could detect a slight tremor in Mickey’s hands, but he didn’t argue.Mickey was steering this ship and if it wrecked that was on him.“Whatever you say, Mick, but I did try to warn you.”


	32. New York Milkoviches

Mandy sat on the stairs and listened as the Gallaghers continued to argue about what they wanted to do about Frank. She was shit in the kitchen and Iggy was making up some serious lost time with his nephew.She wasn't going to get in the way of that which left snooping as the only logical thing to do.

Mickey and Ian were long gone and she was grateful.Neither of them needed to hear this.

Lip was being a belligerent asshole.If she closed her eyes, he almost sounded like Frank.

It pissed her off how they were talking about Ian as if he owed Frank something.Every once in a while one of them would remind the others what Frank had done to Ian and there would be silence for a second until someone else started in with their excuses for why they just couldn’t be around when Frank died.

It got her thinking about what her family would do about Terry.They weren’t like the Gallaghers and Terry was an even bigger scumbag than Frank, but he would die someday.What would they do if they knew about it?If the prison called to tell them he was dying...

“You okay?”Iggy asked, sitting next to her, beer in hand.

“Yeah, just thinking about us and how we’ll deal with Terry dying.”

“Who’s gonna deal with it?Colin’s doing 25 to life.Jamie’s in for 10.Joey’s missing.Mickey hates him.You hate him and I don't give a fuck.He’ll end up in a pine box in prison or die in the streets.No one will care.Fuck him.”Iggy shrugged as he sipped on his umpteenth beer.

Mandy looked at him.Iggy was a large man, but his clothes were too big, ancient hand me downs from Jamie, Joey or Colin who were even bigger.His sandy blonde hair was shaggy and in need of a cut.He looked like her old life.

They had spent a lot of time together since he got here.She had shown Iggy around the city and taken him out to her apartment in Brooklyn so he could get settled in.He had not talked much.He never had.

All he said was the old homestead had been repossessed and he wanted to change his life.If Mickey and Mandy could do it, maybe so could he.When she looked into those blue eyes, which were a shared trait among Milkoviches no matter who their mother was, she believed him.

Iggy was only two years older than Mickey.He had survived the same horrors she and Mickey had.They were coming out on the other side.She really wanted Iggy to share in their new found freedom, too. 

Something had eased between her and Mickey once they knew what each other had endured. The outside eye might not see it, but she could feel it in the way she and Mickey interacted.She didn’t hit him as hard and he had stopped giving tittie twisters.They hugged now, something they had rarely done back in Chicago.They were kinder to each other.

Knowing how hard it was undo years of learned apathy and mistrust, she wasn’t really expecting an answer when she asked, “What did Terry do to you?”

“Nothing, why?” 

“Bullshit.”Mandy had seen the walls that went up the moment she asked. 

Mickey was the same. He hadn’t told her about what happened to him either.Even after she had shared her story and told him she knew about his rape, he held silent.She doubted they would ever really talk about it no matter how much time passed.It hurt him too much.

Iggy was a much simpler character than Mickey, though. Very little phased him.He wasn’t prone to strong emotions in either direction as far as she could tell.Maybe it was all the wine she drank, or maybe it was just the general suffering this holiday season was inflicting on them, but she blurted out,“He raped me.”

“What?”Iggy turned to look at her.“Are you serious?”

“Yeah, and I aborted his kid.”Sometimes it felt good to say it, like she was expelling poison with her words.Other times it broke her heart.Today she was ambivalent.

Iggy looked at her for a long time and then patted her hand, turning away to stare down at the landing below. 

Still not satisfied, Mandy prodded, “So what did he do to you?”

Iggy shrugged.“Nothing.”

Something about how he said it struck a cord.She knew Terry had done something terrible to Iggy, too.She put an arm around his huge shoulders and softly said his name. “Iggy.”

Iggy shrugged her off.“He, ah, he was really drunk.It was too late anyway.”

Mandy arched an eyebrow and he caved.

“Collin and Joey, they thought our mom ran out on us.She didn’t.”

“And you know that how?”

“I saw him dragging her body out of the house.She was beat to hell, almost unrecognizable, but...he killed her.She was dead.”His voice was as steadily placid as ever.He could have been talking about the weather.“He saw me.At least I always thought he did, but he was drunk as fuck.I think he musta blacked it out or something.After he just sort of avoided me.Guilty conscience maybe.”

“I’m so sorry.”Mandy said throwing her arms around him and hugging him as tight as she could until he shifted his weight uncomfortably and she let go.

“I wonder if Mickey’s the way he is ‘cause a something dad did to him.”He said.

It was typical Milkovich homophobic bullshit which immediately raised her hackles. “You’re not gay, are you?”

“Fuck no.” 

“Nobody made him gay, Iggy.”She told him. “Mickey was born the way he is.”

“Just don’t get how Mickey likes that shit.”Iggy muttered.

It was just the general gayness he couldn’t understand. It was sort of like when Ian told her about the one and only time he had been with a woman and how much he had hated it.Mickey and Ian couldn’t help what they liked any more than she or Iggy could.

“You should tell Mickey.”She said.It wasn’t that she thought Mickey would care.He likely wouldn’t.She didn’t, not really, nothing beyond feeling sorry Iggy knew his father killed his mother.Terry had always brought nothing but pain to his children.What mattered, was the new normal they were building in New York and integrating Iggy into it.

Iggy immediately disagreed.“Fuck that, I shouldn’t-a told you.Drunk.”

Mickey would have said the same thing.Hell, she would have too, but not anymore.Shepushed his shoulder and said, “One thing about the New York Milkoviches, Igs, we’re pretty open with each other.You need to get with the program, numb nuts.”

Iggy snorted and fell silent as voices raised again below them. 

Gallaghers sure were noisy fuckers when they argued.Lip was slurring even more now and Mandy felt a pang of genuine sorrow for the man who had been her first love.He had so many gifts, but he was squandering them like a self destructive fool.She had tried to get through to him, but Lip’s pathology was exhausting and she had better things to do with her time now.Everything she had hoped to achieve riding his coat tails she had gotten for herself.He stumbled.She stood up.

“You think they’re gonna stay?”Iggy asked, cutting into her thoughts.

From what she knew of the Gallaghers there was no doubt what they would do.“Yeah, after a lot of bitching, they’ll stay.”

***

“It’s okay, Mickey.”Ian said as he tucked his dick back in his pants and tried to act nonchalant. 

Touching Ian had been a bad idea and though Ian was managing not to say ‘I told you so’, those words were echoing in Mickey’s head.His hands were shaking, his heart was beating a million miles an hour and he was having a hard time catching his breath, but in spite of all that, all he could think about was how fucked up, how _unfair_ , it all was.“It fucking is not.It’s not okay.”

“It was just too much too soon.No biggie.”Ian shrugged as if he wasn’t just as frustrated, which Mickey knew couldn’t be true. 

“You have an amazing cock, I used to worship that thing, man.Fuck!”God, Ian’s dick had been a pleasure stick he had been happy to ride.At least thinking about it didn’t make him want to puke anymore, but he was a long way off from enjoying it again.He could still freak himself out wiping his own ass for fuck’s sake.

Mickey wanted to scream he was so frustrated. 

“You’re pushing too hard, Mickey.We don’t have to move this fast.Seriously, we don’t.”

Everything Ian had shown him since October was nothing short of total devotion.The lucid, balanced version of Ian he was currently dealing with might actually wait until the end of time if he had to.Mickey could almost believe it. 

But Ian wouldn’t always be balanced and that was what scared him.What was happening with Ian’s family right now could unbalance him.The frustration of waiting on Mickey to sort himself out could unbalance him.In many ways the redhead was a powder keg surrounded by sparks right now. 

Mickey sighed, trying to rein his thoughts back in. 

Ian was a lot more aware of himself than he had been back in the day and the people around him knew the signs.Or so they said.He had no choice but trust it.For now.

Rubbing his face he sighed, “I’m just fucking annoyed.”

“I can help with that.Let me dance for you.”Ian said, understanding the crux of the current issue.

“Naked.”Mickey ordered.They had been doing the dancing thing for a while now and it was safe and comfortable and not enough anymore. 

Ian got up and stood in front of Mickey.The look in his eyes was uncertain.“Never tried that before.”

True enough.Ian had stripped down to his underwear once and Mickey had watched Ian jack off.That had been okay.This was just another layer, another baby step toward the ultimate goal.“It’s what I want.”

Ian looked at him hard and long before he started unbuttoning his jeans again.“Mildred, resume playing spank bank please.”

***

Mickey basked in the afterglow long after Ian dozed off. 

He was sort of watching the feed from the sixth floor waiting for the kids to finally fall asleep so Mission Santa Claus could commence, but mostly he was just thinking.Ian was in the bed lying beside him asleep.

He was laying on his side facing Mickey, head cradled in one hand and other arm folded against his chest.Mickey had insisted the redhead join him in the bed and not put his clothes back on.A sleepy Ian had obliged him.

The fire at the end of the bed was roaring and the room was warm.Ian had a sheet over the lower half of his body.Mickey ran a hand over the redheads arm.

This was the body he loved, the one he craved.He knew every inch of it, every freckle and every scar.He knew what tickled, what caused goosebumps and what turned Ian’s bones to jelly.He felt sometimes like he knew Ian’s body better than he knew his own.

In the firelight, Ian’s lashes glowed red against his pale skin.Mickey brushed a hand over Ian’s cheek marveling at how in sleep Ian seemed to have reverted to the 15 year old boy Mickey fell for all those years ago, baby faced but not quite innocent.

Mickey moved close enough to feel the warmth of Ian’s breath on his skin and inhale his scent.In the six years separating them, he had never been able to purge Ian’s smell from his memory.No matter what cologne Ian wore, he would know the underlying scent anywhere. 

Mickey ran his hand down from Ian’s shoulder to his hip, pushing the sheet back so he could see more of him.Ian never stirred.

He was so fucking beautiful. 

When they first got together it had taken Mickey a while to be willing to let Ian sleep over or to sleep over with Ian.Even when he was still fucking girls, he never slept with them. 

He had laid awake those first few nights they shared a bed because he was afraid to fall asleep.Then Mickey realized how deeply Ian slept and how hard the redhead was to wake up.It made sense because there was never a quiet moment at the Gallagher house and there were always people coming in and out of the room Ian shared with his brothers.

Of the two of them, Ian was the vulnerable one and Mickey took on the role of protector.He would stay awake until Ian fell asleep.He made sure he was the one sleeping closest to the door to ensure intruders had to go through him first.

The bipolar meds had only made Ian’s sleep deeper and more vulnerable. 

Mildred was definitely a much needed safety net, but Mickey still worried.Ian had not heard Mildred when Frank broke in.What if there was a real intruder or a fire or carbon monoxide?Would Mildred alarm, or would she do the same ‘can we talk’ bullshit?If there was an actual alarm would Ian hear it?

As undoubtably strong as Ian was, he needed looking after.

Mickey wanted to stand in the gap between Ian and the bedroom door.He wanted to be there to shake the other man awake in the event of an emergency, or like now, in the event the kids had finally fucking fallen asleep.

They could get the Mission Santa Claus show on the road.


	33. Operation Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is super short. Sorry about that.

“Ian, time to go play Santa.”Mickey said shaking the redhead hard.

“Huh?”Ian groaned rolling over onto his back.

“You have a fuck ton of presents to move out of the office, remember?”All of the gifts from all of the various people playing Santa had been stored in Mickey’s as yet unused office.

“Oh.”Ian breathed, barely awake.He scratched at his chest and yawned.

“You want me to handle it?”Mickey asked.

Ian said nothing.His breathing was even and slow.He was sleeping again.

Mickey shook his head and rolled over pulling himself back to his side of the bed and sitting up. 

He got his knee brace on and went down to the second floor to find Kev and Vee, Fiona and Ford, Mandy, Iggy, Svet, Debbie and Lip all sitting around drinking and chatting.Carl and Kassidi apparently still considered themselves kids where presents were concerned.

“Mildred says the kids are finally sleeping.Let’s get this done, huh?”

“Where’s Ian?”

“Sleeping.”

“Okay.We’ve been talking and the plan is Iggy is going to go up and eat the cookies since they’re least likely to recognize him in the Santa suit.The rest of us will get the presents down ASAP and you’ll watch the monitor for tiny spies, sound like a plan?”Kev said before downing the rest of his beer and belching loudly.

“Works for me.The suit and presents are in my office.It’s the door to the left on the front side of the house.”

“You have an office?”Lip asked as if he was surprised to learn Ian and Mickey were living together...which they weren’t, but fuck him if Mickey would tell the sanctimonious asshat their relationship wasn’t rock solid.

“Yeah, it seems I do.I told him a card table and a chair would work, but you know how he is.”Mickey shrugged.He told Mildred to unlock his office and the rest of the adults headed upstairs.

Mickey went to the fridge and pulled out a beer before he sat down at the table and said, “Mildred show me the sixth floor play room.”

The TV flickered on and showed him what had become the play room.All the children were sleeping.“Mildred, split screen and show me my office.”

Iggy was shrugging into the costume as several other people grabbed up packages.“Mildred, speaker to my office.” He paused, waiting for her to respond. Once she did he said, “coast is clear.”

They scattered like rats with Iggy heading upstairs and the rest of them coming down the stairs, dropping off packages and going back up for more. 

Iggy managed to sneak into the play room and steal two cookies while taking a bite out of a third.He also gulped down half the milk and then snuck back out without being seen.

The second round of presents was brought down while Debbie, Fiona and Svetlana arranged them under the tree.Why they were doing that was a mystery to Mickey.

“Jesus, this has to be the biggest haul of presents I’ve ever seen.”Mickey eventually said watching as the half ring around the tree grew to easily four feet around the tree’s base.Even in the movies there weren’t this many presents.

“Me too.This is even worse than last year.”Fiona replied as she came to sit beside him and watch.

Hearing the words as criticism of Ian’s spending, Mickey defended him saying, “There are a lot more kids this year.”

“Yeah.There are.” She agreed easily, taking another swig of her beer. 

Mickey glanced at her.She was watching her siblings who were gathered around the tree moving presents around for reasons Mickey could not fathom.He had never done this before. 

They were quiet for a while as the activity wound down.Then Fiona yawned and got up telling him, “Those kids are gonna wake us up at the ass crack of dawn.I’m going back to bed.”

Mickey agreed and followed her to the elevator.


	34. Terry’s Legacy

Mickey startled awake, shoving off whatever was crushing his chest and leaping to his feet only to land on his ass when there was a pop and his knee gave out unable to support his weight.

He knew he wasn’t going to be able to get back up.He blinked into the darkness as he brought his fists up, adrenaline coursing through him as screams rang in his ears and the sudden certainty this was it, he was going to die, settled in his gut. 

The lights popped on blinding him.He rubbed at his eyes hearing Ian’s voice softly saying, “You’re okay, Yevy.It’s okay.” 

It took a moment to shake off fear and death and realize with a cold, horrifying surety the weight he had fought against had been his son, excited about Christmas morning and eager to share it with his dad.

“Papa didn't mean it.”Ian said and Mickey knew he was talking to both Milkoviches in the room, but all he could think about was he had turned into Terry.He had hit his son, the one thing he had promised himself he would never, ever do. 

“Papa pushed me.”Yevgeny choked out between sobs, confirming Mickey was the biggest piece of shit to have ever pretended he could be better than his upbringing.He realized his fists were still up, even now, when he knew what he had done, they were still up.It felt like his body had turned into concrete and he had to hammer at himself to finally get his arms to fall back to his sides.

“I know, Yevy.”Ian agreed, then he went on saying, “Papa wakes up rough sometimes because he has...” Ian trailed off and then found the word he was looking for, “...nightmares.You scared him.I bet he really scared you too, huh?”

“Yeah.”Yevgeny sniffled.“You have nightmares, Papa?”

Mickey couldn’t look at his son.He couldn’t look at Ian.He had never been more ashamed. 

“Mickey?”Ian prodded.

As much as Mickey wanted to disappear into a corner somewhere to hate himself, his son needed him to man up, but there were no words adequate to express how bad he felt.Still, he had to try.

“I’m so sorry, buddy.I didn’t mean...” He stopped.He had heard similar words many times as a kid and he knew they were empty, hollow falsehoods told by people who wanted to make themselves feel better.They would tell the same lies next time.Mickey choked on them, unable to lie to his child.

After a beat of silence, Ian said, “There are some people you have to wake up really gently, Yev.Me, you can jump all over me and I might not even wake up at all, but your dad you have to be very careful with.”

“Why?” 

“I met your dad when we were kids and even back then, I knew I should let him wake up on his own.You know how your mama and papa keep you safe?No one kept your dad safe when he was a kid.He had to protect himself.People are most vulnerable when they sleep so your dad felt, and still feels, the least safe when he’s sleeping.If someone tries to wake him up, he gets scared and tries to defend himself.He can’t help it.”

Mickey wiped angrily at his tearing eyes.He had not realized how completely Ian understood or that this tendency had been obvious way back when, before prison had taught him to wake up fighting for his life. 

“Did Papa not have a mommy and daddy?”Yevgeny asked, sounding sad now rather than scared.

“He did, but his mom died when he was young and his dad is not a nice man.”

Mickey was gripped for a second by a desperate need to be in his mother’s arms.It hadn’t happened often, but he remembered her hugs.God what he wouldn’t give...

“Oh.”Yevgeny breathed sounding even more sad, and damn if the kid started crying again Mickey was going to completely lose his shit.

“Not everyone is lucky enough to have a dad who loves them.”Ian said, sounding sad himself and Mickey remembered that right now Ian’s shit stain of a father was dying.

“My papa loves me.”Yevgeny stated, sounding utterly confident, like Mikey wasn’t making a strong bid for shittiest father of the year.

He did love his son, more than anything else in the world, but apparently that was not enough to keep him from hitting him.

“You bet he does.”Ian replied.There was some rustling from the bed and Ian said, “You think we can go help your dad get up now?”

“Yeah.” Yevgeny agreed and then the little boy was by Mickey’s side, tugging on his arm in an effort to help him to his feet.

Mickey pulled Yevgeny into his arms and squeezed.He had no words adequate to express how much he loved this kid and how sorry he was for laying hands on him.Yevgeny returned the hug, squeezing with all his might he said, “I will protect you, Papa.It’s okay.”

It took literally everything Mickey had not to break down bawling.He let his head rest on his son’s tiny shoulder for a moment trying to pull himself together for the sake of this brave little boy who was too young to be dealing with such heavy shit.He took another swipe at his eyes, heaved a shaky breath and let go of Yevgeny. “Help me up?”

Ian’s hands seemed to come out of nowhere gripping under his arms and Yevgeny pulled at an elbow, to get him to his feet.Ian held onto him which was good because the pain in Mickey’s knee went from a dull roar to a blazing inferno the second he put weight on it.There was no way it would support him.Ian had to practically carry him the few steps back to the bed. 

Mickey slumped down onto it, miserable with pain and guilt.

“Hey, Yev, me and your dad will be down in a minute.You wanna go find your mom and get some coffee started?” Ian asked.“I think your dad could really use some.”

“Okay!”Yevgeny said before turning on heel and shooting out of the room like a man on a mission.

“ _Fuck_.”Mickey breathed, falling back on the bed.His knee was killing him, but he felt like he deserved the pain.

“You didn’t hit him.” Ian said as he sat beside Mickey close enough to touch at the shoulders.

“So?”Mickey questioned, he had pushed him. Hard enough to crash him into Ian and scare the shit out of him.It wasn’t much of a stretch from there to beating him bloody.Mickey knew this first hand. 

“So you aren’t your father, Mickey.”Ian answered, putting a hand on Mickey’s thigh and rubbing.“You didn’t hit Yev.You pushed him off you and fell out of the bed.He was startled, not hurt.”

“I promised myself I would never lay a hand on him.”Mickey said, feeling angry tears start to well again.He swiped at his eyes.There was no going back from this and the road forward was a slippery slope of violence he never wanted Yevgeny to experience.He would kill himself before he allowed his son to go through even a fraction of the shit he had endured.

“You didn’t, not in the way you’re thinking.” 

“According to you I pushed him.”

Ian sighed and flopped down next to him on the bed.“Mickey, you were dead asleep and acted on instinct.It was an _accident_.” 

“Great, so my instinct is to hurt my kid.”No son should ever be afraid his own father would hurt him.

Ian smacked him on the chest.“You punched me when I did it.”

Mickey had forgotten all about punching Ian.Fuck.“Oh, well that makes it so much better.I’m an all around domestic violence case.Fucking fuck!”

“So am I then.I mean, how many black eyes have we given each other?”

“No, you’re not.”Mickey dismissed Ian’s claim immediately.Way back then neither of them had known how to deal with strong emotions or how to stand up for themselves without turning it into a physical fight.They were both older now, they had things to lose and they had years of therapy between them that should have taught them better coping skills.It had worked for Ian, but apparently not so well for Mickey.

“Well, you aren’t either.”Ian rolled onto his side and Mickey could feel Ian’s eyes on him.“You’re a guy who’s been through some shit that’s given him an overactive fight or flight response when he’s woken up unexpectedly, that’s all.”

There was no excuse for slugging his boyfriend or shoving his kid.None. 

“Maybe we should talk to Dr. Mo about this.”Ian suggested.

“It’s fucking Christmas.”Mickey reminded them both.He had been looking forward to watching his son open presents, but not any more.Now he was going to have to go downstairs and try to pretend he was happy and not the biggest shit bag to ever have a kid.

Ian snorted.“He’s Muslim.To him today is just Wednesday.” 

***

Dr. Mohammed answered the phone on the second ring, “Good morning, Mickey.How are you?”

Without preamble, Mickey said, “I hit my kid.”

“No, you did not.”Ian immediately disagreed.This was why he had insisted they call Dr. Mohammed together and on speaker.

“Is that Ian?”

“Yeah.Hi, Dr. Mo.”

“Hello, Ian.I would like you to tell me what happened please.”

Ian thought that was a great idea because Mickey was mischaracterizing what had happened and would make it harder for Dr. Mohammed to help him.

“I had just woken up and this little blur darted into the room and jumped on Mickey before I could stop him.Mickey pushed Yev off of him into me and then fell on the floor.Mickey didn’t hurt him or anything.Yev was just surprised to jump on his dad and end up in my lap, that’s all.”Ian explained.He wished he had had the foresight to lock the door so this would not have happened.It would never be unlocked again, that was for sure.He would add a protocol that the master bedroom door just stayed locked unless Ian or Mickey tried to open it and it would lock behind them.

“Mickey, is that what happened?”

Mickey drew a hand down his face.“Fuck, I don’t know.Something was on me and I pushed it off, landed on my ass and was ready to give the beatdown of my life before I figured out it was my kid.He was screaming.”

“He was crying, not screaming. He was just startled, but he’s okay.”Mickey had basically pushed Yevgeny into Ian’s arms.Yevgeny had burst into tears, as kids do when surprised by an unexpected response. 

“Where is Yevgeny now?”Asked Dr. Mohammed.

Mickey said nothing, lost in thoughts that were clearly unhealthy.Ian answered again. “We sent him on a coffee mission.He’s fine.We have to go down soon to open presents, but I wanted to talk to you first since Mickey is beating the hell out of himself right now.”

“Fuck you.I just didn't want to end up like my dad.”Mickey said, but there was no fight in the words, just a limp self loathing Ian had never seen before.It scared him.

“You are a long way from Terry, Mickey.”Dr. Mohammed reassured.

Mickey was glaring at his hands as if they had betrayed him.“I shoved him.” 

“How does that make you feel?”Dr. Mohammed asked.

“How do you think?Like a fucking asshole.I promised myself I would never be like my dad and here I am.I punched Ian and shoved my kid.I’m a fucking piece of shit.”The words had Mickey’s usual bite, but the tone was one of defeat.

“Were there any similarities in those events?An emotion you were feeling?”

Ian could tell the point of this question was to get Mickey to realize he had been startled awake and responded as he had been conditioned to respond.

“I don’t know.”Mickey muttered.

“That is a cop out.”Dr. Mohammed said, which was exactly what Ian was thinking. 

“Scared, I guess.”Mickey admitted. 

When they were kids, Mickey never would have been able to admit to being afraid.He would have put on a brave front, arched an eyebrow and told everyone to fuck off.Ian put a hand on Mickey’s back which was instantly shrugged off.Ian sighed.

“Fear is a powerful emotion.”Dr. Mohammed said.

“That’s no excuse.”Mickey muttered.

“You have a known issue with being jarred awake which triggers a violent fight or flight response from you.Obviously, we will work on this.”There was a pause and then Dr. Mohammed asked, “Is there anyone else in your life who might try to wake you?”

“Not really.”

Ian disagreed.There were a lot of people in the house.What would happen if Mickey fell asleep on the couch or something?

“My first suggestion is to lock the door.”

Mickey frowned.“Fucking duh, doc.”

“Also, since this is an issue that has now surprised two of the most important people in your life, perhaps this is something you should share with the rest of the people in your circle.This way they are aware of the danger and you can rest easier knowing they will be careful about waking you.”Dr. Mohammed suggested to Ian’s relief.If he hadn’t said it, Ian would have had to.

Mickey immediately balked.“So just tell everyone I hit Ian and Yev and oh, by the way, mess with me when I’m sleeping and I’ll fuck you up, too?”

“Those are not the words I would choose.” There was a drawn out pause, and then Dr. Mohammed said, “You can wait for the next person to make this mistake if you prefer.”

“Fuck.”Mickey flopped back on the bed looking miserable. 

Ian was relieved because body language said Mickey would give in.

“How is Yevgeny?”

Mickey had an arm over his eyes and his lips were a tight line.

“Anyone?”Dr. Mohammed asked, because neither of them had answered him.

Ian tore his eyes away from Mickey.“He’s okay.I explained it to him.”

“What exactly did you tell him, Ian?”

“I told him Mickey has been through a lot and that because of it he doesn’t feel safe when he’s sleeping so he wakes up rough.I told him we have to be careful to let Mickey wake up on his own and that if he’s super excited and wants to jump on the bed, he has to do it on my side.”

“I see.”Dr. Mohammed said and Ian could tell he had said the right thing just by the doctor’s tone of voice.“What did you tell him, Mickey?”

“I just told him I’m sorry.I am _so_ fucking sorry.”Mickey sounded like he might choke up.

“Ian, can I talk to Mickey alone, please?”

“Oh.Yeah, sure.”Now that Mickey could not drive the narrative that he was a terrible, abusive, cruel piece of shit who should be taken out and shot, Ian was willing to leave him in professional hands.He climbed off the bed and squeezed Mickey’s arm saying, “I love you and I support you.”

Mickey did not respond.

***

Ian stood on the landing trying to gather himself. He could hear a lot of voices coming up from the second floor.It seemed surreal it was Christmas morning and that one story below there were happy people anticipating a great day. 

Ian was not in the mood for any of it. 

Today was going to be incredibly awkward, Ian could feel it in his bones.Mickey probably wanted to crawl under a rock and die, but that was not going to be an option, not on Christmas morning, not with a house full of kids eager to open presents and play with their new toys. 

There was nothing Ian could do.Mickey and Dr. Mohammed would hopefully reach some sort of...something so Mickey could face his first Christmas with his son.

With a sigh Ian headed for the stairs, buttoning his pajama shirt as he went.Most of the adults were in the living room either sitting on the couch like zombies sipping coffee or trying to corral four excited children who wanted to open presents. Right. Now.

Yevgeny was in a heated discussion with his mother in the kitchen. 

“I said no.Nyet.Go be with children.”Svetlana said and with a swirl of her hair turned her back on her pouting son and drilled Ian with a curious look.

“Where is idiot ex-husband?Yevgeny demands to bring him coffee.”

“He’ll be down in a bit.”At least Ian hoped he would.“Did you send Yev to wake us up?”

“No, he tells me he will get you.Why?”She asked as she handed him a mug of steaming coffee.

“Just, Mickey was sleeping and Yev pounced on him.”Ian could not bring himself to tell her the rest, but the look on her face said she already knew.She had also shared a bed with Mickey.Sometimes Ian forgot that.

“Yevgeny was not hurt?”She asked.

“No, he was just startled.” Ian replied. “It was just a push, but Mickey feels like shit about it. He’s talking to Dr. Mo right now.”

“Good.”Svetlana nodded, then looked him over hard. “How are you?”

Ian knew what she was really asking and took a beat to assess himself.Last week in the height of the issues at Claymore, he had started to go off the rails a little.Svetlana was the first to notice the pace of his speech had picked up and the volume of ideas had increased.Ian had not wanted to admit it the first day, but after two almost sleepless nights had called Dr. Brynner who made a small med adjustment.He had settled back down after that.“I’m okay.” 

She eyed him for a moment longer and then pulled milk from the refrigerator for her own cup of coffee. 

“I just hate seeing him struggle.He thinks he’s like Terry now.”Ian said when she turned back to look at him.Mickey might not always think so, but Svetlana was his ally.She wanted him to succeed because she wanted Yevgeny to have a father he could be proud of. 

“He is nothing like piece of shit father.” Svetlana growled.She had as much reason as any of the rest of them to hate Terry.She looked murderous for a moment and then her face softened.“I will tell him this.”

“What did Mickey do now?”Lip asked as he trotted into the kitchen and went straight to the coffee machine.

“Nothing.He’s fine.”Ian responded knowing he sounded defensive and that if Lip was in the mood to be an asshole, Ian had just given him an opening.

“Yeah, right.” Lip responded side eyeing Ian, clearly sensing blood in the water.

Ian’s hackles immediately rose.Today was not the day for Lip going after Mickey.Lip was very good at getting under Mickey’s skin which would be much thinner today than usual. “Not today, Lip.We’re not doing this today.It’s fucking Christmas for Christ’s sake.”

“Jesus, good morning to you, too.”Lip scowled over the rim of his coffee cup at Ian with bloodshot eyes.“What’s your problem?”

“I’m fine.”Ian responded, dialing himself back.It was too early to start fighting. 

“Where’s Mickey?”Fiona asked as she entered the kitchen in search of a refill.

“He had a phone call.He’ll be down in a minute.”At least Ian hoped he would.

Kassidi trotted into the room in her PJs with a bottle of champagne in each hand.“I’m making mimosas.”

“Sign me up.”Vee called from the living room. 

Carl flopped into a chair at the kitchen table and put his head down on it like he was going to fall back asleep.“What time is it?”

“Can we open presents yet?”Whined one of the twins.

“Not everyone is here yet, Amy.” Kevin sighed in the long suffering way parents did when they were at the start of an ordeal.“I’ll take a mimosa, too.”

“Well, go get them then!”The other twin whined. 

“No!”Ian and Svetlana said in unison, then Ian continued, “Mickey got a call he had to take.Give him a minute.”

Mimosas and another pot of coffee were made and drunk.Mickey still had not come down and the natives were getting increasingly restless.Ian was about to go up and see how things were going when he heard the elevator.

Mickey crutch walked his way out of it with his eyes on the ground.Ian noticed how pinched Mickey’s lips were and how he was not putting any weight on his braced knee. All of his weight was on his replaced hip.That could not be good.

The mood in the room immediately lifted since the approbation on opening presents would now end, but Ian only had eyes for Mickey.

Mickey, not making eye contact with anyone, asked, “Is there coffee in this joint?”

“I’ll get it, Papa.”Yevgeny immediately jumped up from his place near the tree and ran for the kitchen.

“Thanks, Yev.”Mickey muttered, still not looking up from the floor.

Ian made his way over to Mickey’s side and quietly asked, “You okay?”

“Let’s just get this done, okay?”Mickey responded, finally glancing up at Ian, a flash of blue before his gaze wandered to what had become his chair.

“Okay.” Ian agreed, because it was clear to him Mickey was barely holding it together.He leaned down close to Mickey’s ear and said, “I love you.”

Mickey turned away from him and slowly crutch walked his way to his chair in the living room.The ‘leave me alone’ vide was strong.

“Here’s your coffee, Papa.”Yevgeny said as he carried the mug very carefully over to Mickey. 

“Thanks, little man.”Mickey muttered.Yevgeny, unaware of Mickey’s mood, crawled into his lap and curled up against his father’s chest.

Ian watched Mickey’s eyes close and knew the other man was fighting back a strong emotion, but Mickey held it together as he put an arm around his son and held the little boy close to him.

“Can we open presents now?”Asked Liam, who had been the most patient of the kids.

“Yeah. I think we can.”Kev said as he looked around at the parents in the room.“So there are rules here, okay? Carl and Iggy are gonna be Santa’s elves.They’re gonna pass out the presents so parents can get pictures...that cool with you, Ian?”

“Yeah, that’s fine.”Ian agreed from his place on a stool in the kitchen.There were not enough seats in the living room and it was more important for the people with kids to be closest to the tree.His photography ban could be lifted for this.

“Then let’s get this party started!”

***

Mickey could feel Ian’s eyes on him as the kids delighted themselves opening gifts. 

He was covered in discarded wrapping paper because Yevgeny had not left his lap once throughout the present opening.It was uncomfortable on many levels, but none were Yevgeny’s fault and Mickey wasn’t going to do anything to call attention to how much he wanted his son off his lap.He would endure.He owed it to his son.It fucking hurt though.

His knee had swollen to the size of a melon and to avoid calling attention to it, he was not icing or elevating it like he should be.He had taken one of the muscle relaxers and a hydrocodone he had left over from his hip to help with the pain.He had also popped an Ativan in an effort to dull out his emotions which were still raging in spite of Dr. Mohammed’s best efforts.

He could feel Ian watching him and was very aware of Svetlana lurking near by.She probably knew what he had done and was standing by ready to snatch their son away at the slightest hint Mickey might hurt him again.

Mickey tried to squash his fears Svetlana would take Yevgeny away permanently. If the tables were turned he would sure as shit be looking into how to get full custody to protect his son.This could be his first and last Christmas with his child.It was a terrible thought and one he could not shake off no matter how hard he tried.So Mickey let Yevgeny open his presents sitting on his lap in spite of the pain.

He let the little boy open his presents, too.He got a couple shirts, some gift cards and a homemade comic book that Yevgeny made for him.In it he was The Butcher and Yevgeny was his sidekick The Cleaver.It was a little disturbing, but at the same time the best gift he had ever received.In the story they had once been bad people who owned a slaughter house, but they had seen the light and now were defenders of abandoned and mistreated animals. 

“It is propaganda.Yevgeny wants puppy.”Svetlana reminded as she handed him a long thin box.“Merry Christmas.”

It was the latest Apple Watch.

Ian’s gift was a Hawaiian shirt wrapped around two tickets for a beach vacation over Memorial Day weekend which also happened to be Ian’s birthday.Mickey thought it was presumptive but at the same time found the idea kind of exciting.He had never flown in a plane, had a vacation or seen the ocean, not that he deserved to do any of those things. 

‘Santa’ gave all of the kids (including Carl and Kassidi) top of the line 19” iPad Pros with the keyboard, earbuds and pen.All of the adults were given business class round trip tickets for two to anywhere American Airlines flew, even Iggy.Everyone also got pre-paid Visas with no amount specified though Mickey would bet it was at least a grand. 

Yevgeny was opening one of his gifts from Mickey which was a book Mickey remembered his mother reading to him when he was young.She had brought it with her from Ukraine.The original copy had been lost, but Mickey had found another on eBay.He sort of wished he had held this one back, since it had him tearing up again thinking about his mom, but it was too late. 

As he was about to explain to his son the significance of the book, Mildred announced, “There is a woman at the front door.”

Ian sprang out of his chair and ran for the stairs.“I got it!”

“What’s he up to?”Fiona asked Mickey.

Annoyed at the interruption when he was trying to share one of a very few happy memories with his son, he glared at her.“No idea.”

“You okay?”She probed, looking concerned.

“Yeah.”Mickey lied.“Just had a really shitty morning.”

Yevgeny turned around in his lap and scolded, “Papa!You said a bad word!”

Mickey wanted to say several more since Yevgeny’s shin was pressed against his painfully swollen knee, but instead said what he had been saying all morning to his son.“Sorry.”

“Oh no,” Mickey heard Ian say a split second before Mickey was pounced upon by another creature.He yelped in pain as the room erupted in surprise and joy over the sight of a small, shaggy black dog washing Yevgeny’s face with it’s tongue and beating Mickey with it’s wagging tail. 

Ian appeared on the steps and announced weakly, “Surprise?”

“You got me a dog?”Yevgeny asked, beaming a megawatt smile and trying to get the dog to stop licking him as the other kids crowded around to pet the dog.

“Um, not exactly.I got _us_ a dog.”Ian clarified, looking guiltily between Mickey and Svetlana.Then he gestured towards the small, scruffy looking thing in Yevgeny’s arms.“This is Scraggles, but we don’t have to call him that.He was only at the shelter a couple weeks so we can rename him if you guys want to.”Ian said looking between Mickey, Yevgeny and Svetlana.

“Dog stays at this house.”Svetlana declared.Though Yevgeny had been angling for a dog for a while now, Svetlana had no use for pets and claimed to be allergic. 

Mickey had been thinking once he got back home to Brooklyn, he would get a dog so Yevgeny would have a reason to visit and maybe stay over with him. He had mentioned it to Ian but had not made a decision yet.

“Oh, yeah, definitely. The dog lives here.”Ian agreed easily.

“He’s so cute!”One of the twins squealed next to Mickey’s ear.

Mickey looked at Ian who smiled back at him completely oblivious to what he had done and Mickey’s simmering anger at himself swiftly boiled over into anger at Ian. 

The dog represented so much presumption on Ian’s part, like they were a family or something when they weren’t shit.Nothing.Just two people who used to fuck who had been teasing at getting back together.Well, to hell with that.

The dog licked his face.Mickey wanted to push it off his lap, but did not because he had done more than enough pushing for today and his son was already head over heals in love with the goddamn mutt.

One of its feet stepped on Mickey’s knee and he hissed in pain.The dog hopped off of him and Yevgeny scrambled after it. 

“You okay?”Ian asked as all the attention followed the dog moving around the room greeting everyone else.

“Why the hell did you get a dog?”Mickey hissed not wanting to be overheard by his son.

“Remember? We were talking about getting one for Yevgeny so I started looking on PetFinder, just sort of toying with the idea, you know? Then I saw Scraggles and it was game over.He was picked up by animal control as a stray.I mean, look at this picture.How could we not give this little guy a home?”Ian asked pushing his phone into Mickey’s face. “I thought you’d be happy.”

Mickey looked at the photo on Ian’s phone and could admit the dog was cute as hell, but neither he nor Yevgeny had been involved in this decision.Ian just made it for them.Clearly Yevgeny didn’t care, but Mickey did.“In case you forgot, I don’t fucking live here.”Mickey growled.“Neither does Yev.” 

The smile slid off Ian’s face.


	35. Dogged Determination Does Damage

Mandy didn’t know what was going on between her brother and Ian, but she knew whatever it was, it wasn’t good. 

Ian had been royally pissed off at his family last night, but there was no evidence of it this morning.Rather than worry about them, he was hovering and hyperaware of every little thing Mickey did, but also staying clear of him. 

Mandy assumed they had fought and Yevgeny had something to do with it since the little boy was also acting strange.

Yevgeny had attached himself to Mickey, clinging to him like a baby sloth.He showed Mickey every single present and demonstrated its features until Mickey gave him the affirmation he was seeking.Mickey was trying, but Mandy could see what a struggle it was for him. 

Svetlana was watching the three of them like a hawk which was part of why Mandy was also paying far more attention to them than she otherwise would have.

Something was definitely off.

The dog’s arrival brought things closer to a head.Yevgeny was over the moon about the fur ball, but she could tell Mickey was pissed.

There had not been many presents left by the time the dog arrived so the gift extravaganza was basically over which was good because Mandy did not have many more fake smiles or oohs and ahs left in her.She was tired, hungry and very curious about what was happening with her brother and best friend.

Yevgeny and the other kids were playing with the dog, trying to decide what to name him. Fiona, Vee and Svetlana were in the kitchen starting breakfast because of course Kassidi and Carl were too busy reviewing their loot to follow through on their promise to make waffles.

Ian had headed for the bathroom and Mickey was sitting alone in his chair looking like his world was crashing in on him when Mandy decided to go confront her brother.“Sup, bro.What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing.”Mickey replied, eyes not leaving the scene of children debating what to name Yevgeny’s new fur friend.

She smacked his shoulder.“Seriously, what’s wrong?” 

“Nothing.”He repeated sounding irritated.

“You pissed about the dog?”

“No.”He shook his head and frowned. 

He was definitely mad about the dog, but he had been weird long before that happened so whatever was going on was something else, something deeper.“Mickey.”

“Just a shitty morning, alright?” He snapped and made to get up but the second he tried to stand he hissed out a breath and fell back in the chair, face twisted in pain.“Damn it.”

Mandy looked him over.He was dressed in blue Christmas themed pajamas, something she never imagined him wearing, and she noticed the material was stretched and the brace was fitting tight around a very swollen knee. “What the fuck happened to your knee?”

“I stepped on it wrong.” 

She knew he was lying.She just didn’t know why.

“Let me get you some ice for that.”Mandy told him as she headed for the kitchen.“You should elevate it, douche bag.”

“Don’t need a nurse.”He called after her.

By the time she returned Ian was back at Mickey’s side.She heard him say, “I’m sorry about the dog.I didn’t mean to steal your thunder.I just saw him and knew he was the one, you know?”

“Who gives a fuck about the damn dog?”Mickey snapped, glaring up at Ian.

“Apparently, you do.”Ian replied.

“Here.” Mandy stepped in hoping to head off their argument before it devolved into a fight.She handed over a bag of frozen peas wrapped in a kitchen towel. 

Mickey glared at her, but took it and gingerly placed it on his knee.

“Your knee.”Ian said, face palming like somehow he should have known.“Jesus, why didn’t you say anything?”

“It’s fucked. It’s been fucked.”Mickey said like this was obvious which in a way it was, but it had not been this bad the night before.

“We need to call Gonzo.”Ian pulled out his phone and started scrolling though the numbers.

“Why? Surgery’s on Friday anyway.”Mickey shrugged in a way Mandy knew was meant to appear nonchalant and uncaring.People who didn’t know him would believe it.

Ian certainly didn’t. “Because this is worse than it was and maybe you tore something else and need another MRI so he knows exactly what he’s up against on Friday.”

“He’ll probably just want to replace it, too.”Mickey said, struggling to stand.

Ian reached out to help and the second Mickey was on his feet, he pushed Ian off.

“Mickey...”

“Just leave me alone, alright?Fuck!”Mickey growled as he crutch walked his way to the elevator.

Ian went to follow him but Mandy grabbed his arm.

***

The clean up from the Christmas presents was done.Breakfast was eaten and that too was cleaned up.Mickey had not come back downstairs so Svetlana had taken him up a plate.

The dog had now been renamed Eevee since Yevgeny loved Pokémon. He was out on a walk with Iggy and Yevgeny.

Ian felt terrible.

He had fucked up with the dog. 

Mickey was already upset, in pain and then Ian had walked all over him.Again. 

Ian and Dr. Brynner talked about it often because Ian carried a lot of guilt about what had happened to Mickey when Ian forced him to come out and then left him without a support system.Yes, he could blame his bipolar for most of it, but it was also a difference in how they approached life.

Ian tended to be a dreamer more focused on possibilities than obstacles.Mickey was a pessimist who resisted change and had to work through all the potential problems before he could get excited about something. 

It meant they could balance each other with Ian pushing Mickey to take more risks and Mickey helping Ian think through potential consequences.They just had to find their communication sweet spot.

Dr. Brynner emphasized how important it was for Ian to slow down and involve Mickey in his decision making.Just because it was crystal clear to him, did not mean Mickey would see it the same way.If they disagreed he needed to listen to Mickey’s point of view which was hard sometimes because Mickey was not the best at articulating what he thought.It meant he had to give even more time for Mickey to express himself.Patience was not one of Ian’s strong points.

The whole dog fiasco could have been avoided if Ian had just shown Mickey the photo he had fallen in love with.Just that one little thing could have made all the difference.Why had he not done that? 

“We’re going to the hospital.You wanna come?”Fiona asked, snapping him out of his thoughts.

“Nope.”Ian answered.He had more important things on his mind than Frank finally getting what he deserved.

“Ian, I’m sorry for how we left things.”

Ian had forgotten until now how dinner the night before had ended.It gave him something other than himself to be angry at. “Yep.”

“Ford has to get back and so does Debbie, but the rest of us are gonna stay.”She told him and then with a weak smile she added,“If you’ll still have us.”

“Even Lip?”Ian asked, back stiff and chin raised.He was not in the mood to deal with his brother’s jealousy and snark right now.

Fiona shook her head, looking bemused.“Even Lip.He was an asshole.He’s not ready to apologize yet, but he knows he was an asshole.”

“Okay.”Ian said because he hoped that was true.He really hated being so distanced from his older brother.They had been best friends once.He missed that.

“Kev and Vee have to get back to their bar.”

“Figured.”Ian understood.Running a business was a 24/7 gig no matter if it was a small neighborhood bar or a multibillion dollar empire. 

“Kassidi’s staying.”Fiona rolled her eyes. 

“Like Carl’s gonna scrape off that parasite so easily.”Ian attempted to joke.Fiona was trying.He could try, too.Besides, the girl had been somewhat tolerable since the window incident.He could deal with her for a few more days.

“I still can’t really believe this is happening.”Fiona said softly. Her big brown eyes held so much sadness.In many ways, of all of them, Frank had treated Fiona worst.He had left all the responsibility for raising five children on her shoulders when she was only four years older than Lip.Fiona had never had a childhood.She had always been an adult. 

“Me either.I thought he’d live forever.”Ian said. He really had. 

***

“Papa?”Yevgeny asked from the doorway after Mickey told Mildred to open it.Svetlana was standing behind him.

It was a stab to the heart how much had changed in a day.Yevgeny had the confidence to leap on him this morning.Now he was hesitating in a doorframe and his mom no longer trusted them alone together.

Mickey pushed himself up in bed and gratefully accepted the fresh ice pack Svetlana offered him as she walked up to his bedside.His knee was killing him.As Svetlana took a seat on the couch, Yevgeny carefully climbed up in the bed and tucked himself in next to Mickey.“Mama said you need surgery again, papa.I’m sorry I wasn’t gentle.”

Oh, man.“I hurt my knee a long time ago, bud.I decided to have surgery when it got worse.It’s not your fault.Okay?”

“But I made you fall down.”Yevgeny said as the dog trotted into the room and jumped up onto the bed. 

Mickey held out his arms and circled them around the little boy when he leaned in for the hug.Into his son’s dark blonde hair Mickey said, “No, you didn’t.You didn’t know, but I did and I should have protected you.So I’m the one who’s sorry, okay?”

Yevgeny pulled away and put his arms around the small black dog that had wiggled it’s way into their moment.“Thank you for Eevee.”

“What?” 

“My dog.”Yevgeny said, cuddling the dog closer so Mickey would know what he was talking about.

Thank Ian, Mickey thought, but somehow seeing his son so happy made Mickey happy.“I’m glad you like him.What’s his name again?”

“Eevee.”Yevgeny said, smiling as the dog licked his face.

“Um, what?”Mickey asked, unable to get the reference and racking his brain for where he might have heard that word before.

In response, he was regaled with far more information than he ever wanted to know about Pokémon.

When Yevgeny wound down, Svetlana said, “We make dinner tonight.Will you come down?”

“Fu..dge,” Mickey caught himself.He had another huge feast planned for tonight, but he didn’t think he could stay upright that long, not with his replaced hip carrying all of his body weight.“I forgot about...”

“I cook tonight.”Svetlana cut him off.She leaned forward in her seat.“Carrot tells me what happened.Yevgeny is not hurt.You are, so I cook, you give instructions.”

Shame flooded in again.He wanted to sink through the floor.“I’m so sorry.”

She glared at him with cold blue eyes.“This is something you know you do, but you do not lock door.”

He had been beating himself up for hours for that specific oversight.

Svetlana’s voice and expression softened.“With children, leave their door open but lock yours.I forgive you this time, not again.You understand?”

“There won’t be a next time.”Mickey promised, because there would not.He would lock the door from now on.That was easy.The hard part was knowing Yevgeny would never look at him the same way again.There would always be a little fear there.His heart hurt and his stomach curdled at the thought.

“No, there won’t.”Svetlana agreed. Mickey glanced at her.She was watching their son cuddle with his new dog.Her expression was soft in a way reserved for their child.“He loves dog.”

An edge of irritation crept in.“I was thinking about getting one but Ian beat me to it.”

Svetlana gave him her eyes, blue and curious.“Did you tell him you think of getting dog?”

“Yeah, we talked about it.”Mickey admitted wishing he had kept his damn mouth shut.

She smiled and nodded like she knew exactly where he had screwed up.“Ah, so he thinks since you talk about it you want it and he does for you.This is how carrot boy loves.He listens and he gives what he hears.”

“That’s one way to look at it.”Mickey muttered, but it sparked an idea.He had never thought of Ian’s pushy, presumptive behavior as love before.He had thought of it as domineering and obnoxious.

“When you know this about him, you choose what you tell our carrot.If you do not want him involved do not tell him.If you want him to do, give him idea.If you want to tell him but do not want him to do, you must tell him you are just talking and want him only to listen.He will still try to help, but will talk first, seek input before he does.I have taught him this.”She explained.Then a twinkle crept into her gaze. “You may thank me later.”

Mickey considered what Svetlana said.He already knew if he reminded Ian he was pushing, Ian would back off.Maybe he needed to apply that tactic to more than just discussions of their sex life and future together.

Svetlana stood.“I come back to get you for dinner.”

“Yeah, okay.”Mickey agreed, lost in thought about what Svetlana had just told him.

“Carrot will not resist coming to see you much longer.” 

“I’m surprised he made it this long.”Mickey said.It had been hours.That was far longer than Ian usually made it.Maybe his ginger idiot was doing a little reflecting of his own.

“Why do you think I am here?”Svetlana asked, a twinkle in her eye.

“Keeping Yev safe.”Mickey said, but Svetlana just glared at him so he tried again.“Buying me time?”

Her smile turned indulgent as she stood from the couch.“I tell him you will come down for dinner.After, he is your problem.”

***

By late afternoon, Mickey was feeling a little better.

He had made Mildred play back the video.He had jolted awake, tossed Yevgeny into Ian’s lap before scrambling out of bed and falling to the floor.Yevgeny wasn’t hurt, just surprised.It didn’t excuse laying hands on him, but at least now Mickey knew he hadn’t hit him.It made it easier to admit Dr. Mohammed was right.He had a known problem with a simple fix: lock the bedroom door. 

He had also talked himself into telling the rest of the people in the house to just leave him the fuck alone when he was sleeping or risk getting their nose broken just in case he ended up dosing off in front of the TV or something.

He also convinced himself to let go of his anger about the dog.Yevgeny was clearly in love with it and in the end his son’s happiness was all that really mattered. 

His knee hurt like a son of a bitch and he had decided Ian was right.He did need to call Dr. Gonzalez’s office first thing in the morning.He had done more damage, obviously, which might change the surgeon’s plan for him.Pretending otherwise was just setting himself up for more problems on Friday.

Bored, but not ready to face people, Mickey had used Mildred to watch the girls getting started on dinner.He had made detailed instructions for himself about what to start when, how long to cook things and how to know when they were done.He had not realized what a perfectionist he had become in the kitchen until he watched them start to fuck up what was supposed to be his crowning achievement thus far in his culinary career. 

He struggled out of his PJs and into huge black sweatpants (because his knee would not fit in the jeans he had intended to wear) and the blue R2D2 Christmas sweater he had found for the ugly sweater contest.Then he made his way painfully to the elevators and downstairs.

“You have to start the rolls first.Didn’t you read the damn instructions?”Mickey snapped as he hobbled his way into the kitchen.

Fiona arched an eyebrow at him.“Well hello to you, too.”

“None of us know how to make bread, Mickey.”Vee complained.“I was going to make biscuits instead.”

“The rolls aren’t hard.I’ve made ‘em before.”Mickey insisted. 

“The ones with the honey, papa?”Yevgeny asked as he came into the kitchen with the dog hot on his heels.Poor little thing was going to be heart broken when it was stuck with just Ian in the house.

“Yeah, those ones.”Mickey confirmed.

“Those are super _duper_ yummy.”Yevgeny told the women in the kitchen.He was very serious about it.

Mickey decided he would make the rolls even if it hurt to stand so long.Looking down at his son he asked, “You wanna help me make them?” 

Svetlana immediately intervened.“You sit.Tell me and Yevgeny what to do, yes?”

“Fine, yeah.”Mickey agreed quickly.Just standing hurt.His hip was not as strong as it should be eight weeks out because his knee had given out and ruined his rehab. 

Once he got settled on his executive chef’s stool with a new ice pack on his knee things went better.His son and ex-wife made the rolls.Vee and Fiona prepped beets, parsnips, carrotsand sweet potatoes for his roasted vegetable dish.Mandy cleaned multi color potatoes he was using for the au gratin.

He cleaned the tenderloin and prepared it for the oven which was preheating to 450.

“Mickey, do we have the stuff for the pies?”Debbie asked, coming into the kitchen with a beer in her hand.

“I got everything you asked me for.” 

“Where?” 

“One of the pantries.”Mickey replied, because where else was she going to find flour, sugar and the rest of the ingredients to make pumpkin pies?

“Mickey.” Ian came over and stood very close beside him leaning down so his lips were close to Mickey’s ear.“I’m sorry.”

He meant it, Mickey knew.He had been hovering nearby looking forlorn while Mickey and the girls had been cooking.Mickey wasn’t sure being sorry was enough.With a sigh he said, “I know.”

Ian shifted a little closer.“Forgive me?”

No, it was not going to be that easy.Ian had gotten off several times with this earnest thing he did, but Mickey wasn’t buying it this time.Instead he raised his chin and asked, “Why am I mad?” 

“That’s a pretty long list. You sure you want to do this here?”Ian replied quietly with the same level of earnestness.

“No.”Mickey didn’t want to do this here, but he did want to have this conversation.It had been brewing for a while, so why not now?Or at least when he was done cooking.“Let me finish this and we’ll talk, okay?”

“Okay.”Ian agreed.


	36. Dogs, Self Determination and Democracy

The nice thing about this meal was once the rolls were out everything else went in the oven at the same time. Then while the meat rested he would make the sauce.The timing was pretty damn perfect.Thus as soon as everything was in the oven, Mickey signaled for Ian to follow him up to the room they were sharing. 

The red head trotted along beside him until the master bedroom door was closed and locked behind them.

Mickey opened saying, “You got 30 minutes, fire crotch.”

“I’m _so_ sorry.I did it again.I made a decision that effects you without consulting you.The dog was your idea...”

“You really think it’s the dog I’m pissed about?”Mickey asked.The dog was a symptom of a larger problem.

“No.”Ian flopped on the couch and began his argument.“I make decisions really fast, you know?Part of that is my disorder.Part of it’s just who I am.I go for it when I want something.Most of the time it works out.It just doesn’t work with _you_.You’re my...well, I want you to be my boyfriend again.”He chuckled, but the humor faded fast.“If you’re my...partner then things have to be 50/50 and I have to learn to restrain myself.I think I’m doing things for you, but really I’m doing them _to_ you and that’s not fair.”

Mickey went back to what Svetlana had told him about her management strategy for this tendency of Ian’s.“Damn right.You’re listening, but you’re not hearing.I was thinking about getting a dog, at my place in Brooklyn, so my kid would have a reason to want to come see his old man, but now the dog fucking lives here, with you.”

“But...”

“No.You set another trap for me.Now if I want to see my son I have to do it here because his goddamn dog is here.See what you did there?Because I sure as shit do.”

“That wasn't my intention.”

“Oh yeah?What was your intention then?”

“I...”Ian trailed off.He stared at his hands for a moment before he looked up, green eyes surprised, and said, “Wow, so, actually you’re kind of right.In my head you already live here with me so it makes sense we, the three of us, would have a dog.We talked about it at one point and I ran with it.”

To Mickey this meant Ian had no insight into the issue between them at all.“Do you even get why I’m pissed?”

“Yeah.I made another decision that effects you without your input.”Ian responded.

“And you did it assuming I’m gonna live with you.I mean, thanks for letting me recover here and all, but I never said this was a permanent move.I’m going home in February.”Mickey said. He had held this plan in the back of his mind while considering staying with Ian.There was something magical about being with Ian, but it also had the potential to be toxic.Glancing at Ian he realized nothing he was saying was sinking in.“What you’re hearing though is you still have eight weeks left to convince me to stay, right?”

Ian looked offended for an instant and then melted into a chagrined smile. “That’s exactly what I was thinking.”

“You just can’t fucking help yourself can you?You’re pushing again.”Mickey told the red head.“Back the fuck off, man.”

Ian eyed him for a long moment before the chin came up and he said, “You had options.You didn’t have to stay here.You could have gone to rehab.You’re here because you want to be.I love you.So forgive me if I want to appeal to the part of you that I know still loves me.”

“For fuck’s sake.”Mickey snorted.It pissed him off how Ian assumed how he felt.

Ian got off the couch and moved towards him.“I lost you once.I don’t want to lose you again.”

“You didn’t lose me, asshole.You left me.” Mickey reminded.

“Jesus.Yeah, okay.I left you.I did.It’s the single biggest regret of my life.I wasn’t there for you when you needed me.I hate myself for that.I can’t undo any of it, but I can do better now.I fucking love you.”Ian clutched Mickey’s shoulders as if the harder he gripped, the more believable he became.

Mickey was so close when he inhaled he breathed in Ian’s warm, familiar scent and melted a fraction.“Ian...”

“You are it for me.You always were, I was just too young, too sick and too stupid to know what I was giving up.Everything I’ve done since then has been to get you back.”

Mickey rolled his eyes.Ian had said all of these things before with just as much conviction.The intensity of it made Mickey uncomfortable.He took a step back and snarked,“Stalker much?”

“Fuck you, Mickey.You know what I mean.”Ian responded, exasperated.“You feel it, too.I know you do.”

Maybe he did.Maybe he didn’t.Most of the time he just tried to avoid feeling much of anything because committing himself to Ian again was just as terrifying as booting the ginger idiot out of his life forever.Ian was not going to stop until Mickey gave him an answer either way. 

Mickey didn’t think an answer was really possible until he got over his sexual hangups.Then maybe he would feel better about living with Ian’s bipolar.None of that was going to happen with Ian making declarations and decisions without consideration for Mickey’s thoughts and opinions.“You need to back the fuck up.”

“I’m trying.” Ian whined.“You don’t even know how hard.”

“Yeah, whatever.”Mickey disagreed.Ian was not trying to meet Mickey in the middle.He was trying to persuade.Annoyed, Mickey checked his new Apple Watch and decided it was time to go put the finishing touches on dinner.“Let’s go eat.”

***

Ian sat in a waiting room at Lenox Hill Hospital.As he predicted, Dr. Gonzalez ordered a new MRI of Mickey’s knee the moment Mickey told him what had happened. 

Fiona and Lip had come with them to the hospital so they could visit Frank while Mickey got his MRI.They were still trying to talk him into hospice care.

Ian didn’t want to go with them to see Frank so he was stuck in a waiting room reading his emails and when those provided nothing to distract himself with, he tried to read a three month old copy of _Golf Digest_.That didn’t help either.

He had seriously fucked up.

Mickey had not really spoken to him since dinner last night.Ian didn’t know how to restart a conversation about overstepping boundaries without doing just that, so he kept his mouth shut. 

The dog was another complication.He had not thought it through very well, which was typical of decisions made when even slightly manic.He had bought and hidden dog stuff in his office so he wasn’t totally unprepared, but he had not thought about where the dog would sleep or who would walk it right before bed.It had not occurred to him how the dog would need to go for a walk first thing in the morning or how it might mess up his morning routine. 

By the time he finally got to his run, he was annoyed at himself for his lack of forethought.He spent eight miles planning out what to do about the dog.Yevgeny was totally in love so the dog was now a permanent part of the family.Adjustments would have to be made, that was all.He needed a contractor to make the courtyard dog friendly and install a doggie door.Then he would hire a service to clean up the shit. He would take the dog to work with him and get his assistant to walk it during the day.Simple.

When he got back he had solved the logistical problems of the dog, but the problem with Mickey remained.Breakfast was awkward.The ride to the hospital was awkward.Everything was awkward and Ian didn’t know how to fix it.

He was dying to just deal with it, but if Mickey needed to be mad for a while, he should probably let it be.If he wanted to have a future with Mickey he was going to have to learn how to do this.That was the point.God, did it suck though.

Mickey stumped out from the back looking mildly freaked out but no worse for wear.Without looking up he muttered, “Let’s go.”

“Yeah, okay.”Ian agreed wishing Mickey would just talk to him. 

As they slowly made their way to the door Mickey said, “They want to do all my pre-op stuff today since we’re already here so we need to find Day Surgery.”

At the door Ian asked, “You have any idea where it is?”

“Yeah.”Mickey replied as they entered the hallway.He pointed.“We go left here and then take a right when the hallway dead ends.Day Surgery is supposed to be the second door on the right.”

“That sounds kinda far.”Ian had seen how hard it was for Mickey to make the walk from the main entrance to check in and then to Radiology.Who knew how far they were from Day Surgery.Sitting in the hallway a few feet away was a janky looking hospital issue wheelchair. “How about we hijack that wheelchair?”

“Cool.”Mickey eagerly sat in it, proving how much pain he was in.It was his own fault.They had offered him a wheelchair at check in but he had stubbornly refused and ended up having to do a nearly quarter mile hike on crutches.As Ian rolled him down the hallway Mickey asked, “When we’re done there you wanna go see Frank?”

“Fuck no.”Ian snapped, wondering what in the world Mickey was thinking. 

“I think maybe we should.”Mickey dragged a hand through his hair which Ian knew was a tell Mickey was trying to express something and struggling to find the words.

Under normal circumstances Ian would shut this topic down, but given this was the first real conversation they were having since last night he asked, “Why?”

“Because you might regret it if you don’t.How you leave it now is what you’ll have to live with.” 

Like Mickey would go see Terry on his death bed, Ian thought but did not say.“I’m cool with hating him for all eternity.It works for me.”

“Whatever.”

They were quiet the rest of the journey to Day Surgery.Mickey was checked in again and they were ushered into a small room to wait for blood work and an EKG.Mickey got himself situated on the stretcher and laid back looking tired. 

The silence dragged on as they waited.

Unable to take it anymore, Ian blurted, “Can we talk now?”

Mickey didn’t open his eyes and for a moment Ian thought he might be sleeping but then he said, “About what?”

“About how I’m a domineering asshole who is really, really sorry for the dog, for presuming you might want to live with me and for pushing too hard.”Those were the three things he knew Mickey was angry about.There were probably other things too, but he wanted to start with what he knew. 

“Sorry is great and all, but I’m sick of sorry.Change it and maybe we can talk.”Mickey said, voice flat, eyes still closed.

“How?” Ian asked.He and his shrink were trying to address these tendencies, but apparently it wasn’t working, or at least not working fast enough.There was also the added complication that Mickey wanted to be pushed, he was just very particular about how and when.Ian was not a mind reader.“How am I supposed to change it when you tell me to push you and then get mad when I do.I don’t know what you want.”

“That makes two of us, cupcake, which is the fucking point.”Mickey said, but there was no bite in his tone.Instead he sounded defeated.“You’ve got your shit together.Mine is a mess.”

Ian disagreed.“Considering everything, I’d say you’re way more together than you give yourself credit for.”

Mickey heaved a sigh in response, like Ian was so far off the mark trying to correct him was too much work to bother.

“So, let’s talk boundaries again.”Ian tried, because Mickey kept moving the goal posts, which sucked, but Ian had signed up for this.He just needed Mickey to tell him where they were now.“What’s okay and what’s not?”

“I’m not gonna live with you.”

Ian almost choked.“Ever?”

“I don’t know.Stop asking.”Mickey snapped.

Pushing.He was pushing again.“Okay.What else?” 

“When we’re talking about stuff I’m thinking about doing that doesn’t mean I want you to fucking do it for me.”

Svetlana had told him the same thing.It had taken a few fuck ups and some pretty strong reinforcement, but they were finally at a point where he left her alone unless she specifically asked for his help.“I got that one loud and clear.It’s hard for me, but I’ll really try not to interfere with your decisions.”

“Basically stop pushing.”

Unclear on where all of this left them he asked, “Unless it’s sex stuff?” 

“Exactly.”Mickey agreed.

So at least they still had that.Okay.It wasn’t over yet. 

“We have no future if we can’t get through the sex stuff.”Mickey sighed.

Ian completely disagreed. “I’m willing to...”

“I’m not.” Mikey cut him off.

Ian wanted to tell Mickey the love he felt for him transcended sex, but in an argument about pushing too hard to get his way, it was the wrong tactic.Instead he asked,“So where does that leave us?”

Mickey didn’t answer right away.When he finally did it was with a shrug.“Same place we’ve been.” 

“Which is where?”Ian asked.They were existing in a no man’s land with no definitions and no clear boundaries.Sometimes Mickey melted into him. Sometimes he was indifferent.Sometimes he was angry bordering on mean.“It feels like you hate me sometimes.”

“Sometimes I do.” Mickey nodded, eyes still closed, no inflection in his voice, nothing to soften the blow.

Ian heaved a deep breath as if he had been struck.Things had been so much better between them recently.They had been almost happy, but Ian had fucked it up by adopting a dog.Jesus. 

“Most of the time I don’t.”Mickey said softly.When Ian glanced at him this time, Mickey’s blue eyes were looking at him.

Ian knew that look.He had seen it many times.Once Mickey had defined it with words.What had come after was one of the biggest mistakes of Ian’s life.

“You are such an idiot.”Mickey said in the same gentle tone of voice as he sat up on the stretcher and leaned toward him holding out a hand.

As Ian reached to take it there was a rap on the door which immediately opened revealing a nurse pushing a cart in front of her. “Hello.I’m Jaclyn, one of the nurses here and I’m going to do you pre-op work up today.Are you Mikhailo Milkovich?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So in addition to being quarantined, I’ve been moving - again. Long story, not worth telling. Thanks for all the well wishes. I’m not sick, never have been, but still coughing. It’s frustrating as hell because I’m not sure the hospital I work at will let me return to work until it’s gone and they won’t test me. I get it, both from a patient safety standpoint and a patient satisfaction standpoint - no one wants a nurse coughing on them right now. Anyway, updates will be a little slower for a while.


	37. Visiting Frank

“Let’s go see Frank.”Mickey said as Ian rolled his wheelchair out of Day Surgery.They were free for the rest of the day and due back at the hospital at seven o’clock the next morning. 

The last place Ian wanted to go was anywhere near Frank.“No.”

“ _I_ want to see Frank.”Mickey insisted.

“The fuck for?”Ian asked annoyed, but also curious.Mickey had no love for Frank.

“Maybe because I need some fucking closure with that asshat.Fuck.Stay here if you want.”Mickey said grabbing the wheels to push himself to ICU.

Ian jogged after him and grabbed the handles stopping Mickey’s forward momentum. “Mickey, seriously?Why?”

“My surgery is tomorrow.I’ll be down for the count for a while and Frank has days, maybe.If I want to tell him he’s getting off easy dying now because the things I’d like to do to him make hell look like a fucking cakewalk, this is the last chance I got.”

Ian smirked.He did love this man.“When you put it like that, okay.”

***

“Ah, if it isn’t my fudge packing son and his preferred bag of shit.To what do I owe the pleasure?”Frank greeted the moment they entered the room.

What hit Mickey first was the smell.The room stunk of death.Screwing his nose up he tried to breathe through his mouth.“Jesus, it fucking reeks in here.” 

“It is a hospital.They are full of sick people.Of course it stinks.”Frank retorted.

“Smells like death.”Mickey said, because it fucking did and breathing through his mouth wasn’t helping. 

“I ain’t dying.”Frank growled.

“Yeah, cause I’m pretty sure being day glow yellow is really fucking compatible with life.”Mickey snarked.Even Frank’s eyes were yellow.Mickey had never seen anything like it and he had seen Frank the last time he had liver failure. 

The other thing that was striking was how skinny Frank was.He had always been wiry, but now, other than a huge pregnant looking belly, his limbs were frail and his jaundiced skin was covered in dark angry bruises and looked as dry and fragile as tissue paper.

Frank pulled himself up in the bed and Mickey noticed all the tubes and equipment attached to him.“You just wait, this liver is going to make a comeback.I’ll be right as rain in a day or two.”

“Liver failure doesn’t work like that, Frank.”Lip said from his place beside Fiona near the window.Mickey had not noticed they were there until now. 

“Me and my liver are going to prove you all wrong.”Frank announced defiantly as if sheer force of will could prevent the inevitable.

“Yeah, okay.” Lip said.Mickey got it.What was the point of arguing?Death was all around them and no amount of denial was going to stop it.It was almost sad.Almost.

The angry words he had intended to say as the pretext to get Ian here failed him.Frank wasn’t getting off easy.This was a terrible way to die.Mickey glanced up over his shoulder at Ian who was looking around the room at all the equipment with an oddly bland look on his face.He asked, “You got anything to say, Ian?”

“Sure.”Ian said sounding indifferent. “I’d like to thank Fiona for being the parent Frank never was.I’d like to thank my siblings for always being there when he wasn’t and I’d like to thank Mickey for showing me relationships don’t have to suck.”

Mickey’s heart flip flopped at those words because right now their relationship did suck.Why Ian was willing to put up with it was beyond him.

“No thanks for me?I may not be your biological father, but I’m the man who made you who you are.”Frank asserted like a man staking his claim to something he actually deserved.

“I am who I am in spite of you.” Ian replied, but there was no bite to it, no anger.It was the same calm detachment Mickey recognized from the time Ian broke up with him.

“You are who you are because of me.Because I never made it safe for you to settle.You had to strive and work hard.I did that.I made you, boy, and don’t you forget it.” 

“Go to hell.”Ian retorted, sounding tired and very, very done.This really was their last conversation, Mickey knew it.

“Says a grateful son to his supposedly dying father.”

Ian gripped Mickey’s shoulder.“I told you I didn’t want to come here.”

Yeah, he had, but Mickey knew Ian needed to do this.They were not the same.Where Mickey was perfectly capable of going the rest of his life without ever thinking about Terry again, Ian was a much more sensitive soul.He would eventually regret not coming, so even if it hurt now, it would save a lot of grief later.

Undeterred, Frank continued with his diatribe.“All I wanted was a little gratitude in return for the lessons I taught you about resilience, perseverance, and self sufficiency.I gave you a master class, and what do I get in return?Nothing.Not a single penny for all my sacrifices from my multimillionaire son.”

“You’re right, Frank.”Ian replied without a hint of emotion in his voice.“You get nothing from me.I thought I hated you, but I can’t even muster up that for you.You aren’t worth it.You never were.”

Frank looked like he was about to launch into another speech, but Ian turned away from him and looked at his siblings.“I have nothing left to say.See you back at the house.” 

With that, he grabbed the handles of the wheelchair and started to turn it towards the door.“C’mon, Mickey.We’re done here.”

***

Mickey was taking a nap.The trip to the hospital had worn him out.The girls had gone shopping the after Christmas sales and most of the boys were downstairs at the first floor bar watching sports and drinking.

Ian had never been a big football fan and he couldn’t keep up with them drinking so he had retreated to his office to get some work done.There was nothing pressing going on.He had received an update on the new release of Survive Southside and the numbers were good, real good.

Whenever he went over finances, Ian got a weird feeling that it was all just make believe.He didn’t really live in a huge mansion.He was not cofounder of a super successful gaming company.Mickey was still rotting in prison. In reality Ian was just some nut bag living in an inpatient psych facility caught in a delusion so real he couldn’t escape it. 

There was a knock on the door and Lip poked his head in.“You okay?”

“Yeah. I’m fine.”Ian lied, glad to be distracted from his mental health worries, but not in the mood to deal with Lip on top of everything else.

“You don’t look fine.”Lip said as he sank down into one of Ian’s teal blue chairs. 

“I’m taking my fucking pills.”Ian snapped, because Lip could be as bad as Fiona about his bipolar.

Lip chuckled, bloodshot blue eyes sparkling.“I wasn’t worried about your meds.I can see you’re taking them.”

“Then what do you want?”Ian asked, because he didn’t think he could up the ante any higher on any of the fights he was currently engaged in.He was at his wits end with all the emotional crap happening around him.

Lip leaned forward, elbows on knees.“Frank...”

“I’m done with Frank.”Ian cut him off.He had mixed feelings about having seen his not-father in the hospital, but the one thing he was absolutely certain of was, “I really am done with him.”

“Good.”Lip said. “That’s good.I was surprised you came to see him.”

So was Ian.He had not wanted to see Frank again, but he was glad he had gone.Looking at Frank, so sick and frail and clearly dying had sapped the rage out of him.He had been able to look at his not-father on his death bed and rather than feel sad, or guilty, or angry, he had been relieved and indifferent.“Mickey wanted to.”

“Really?That’s interesting.”Lip leaned back in his seat looking speculative.

“Yeah, I guess so.”Ian had been thinking about it and the more he did the less odd he found it.He and Mickey had known each other a long time.Mickey was very aware of how complicated Ian’s relationship with Frank was.He had not thought he needed closure, but it turned out he did.Mickey had understood and made it happen.

Ian wondered if he could use this episode as a counter argument in their next fight about making decisions for other people without asking.

“Look, sorry I’ve been such a dick.”Lip said, breaking into Ian’s thoughts.

In the years since Ian had gotten rich and things had gotten weird, this was the first time Lip had apologized.Ian leaned forward because it seemed like he had a chance to explain himself finally.“You know I just want you to be happy, right?”

“You also like rubbing my nose in it.”Lip replied not looking angry for once when he said it.When Ian did not immediately respond he chided,“Admit it.”

Ian stared at Lip for a moment trying to figure out where he was going with this, but his older brother looked earnest so Ian took a chance.“Maybe just a little bit in the beginning.”

Lip sighed and offered an ironic half smile.“Because I was the odds on favorite and you were the long shot who blitzed past me when I stumbled.”

The words stung a little even if they were true.Everyone had expected such big things from Lip.He was a genius and their ticket out of the slums.Even Ian had been relying on him to be the family savior.

Conversely, no one had expected much from Ian.He was diligent and determined but he was no where near as smart as Lip.After his diagnosis their expectations fell even further.Lip hadbeen a mess then too, but they still expected him to somehow succeed.When Ian started getting his shit back together and no one but Mandy believed in him, that had really hurt.“I was so jealous of you sometimes.It felt like everything always came easy to you because you’re so fucking smart.”

Lip snorted.

Now that Ian was the one who made good, he understood much better what Lip had been going through.He could now imagine how hard it had been to bear so much pressure so young and how hard it had been to assimilate into a college environment where everyone was smart and had the extra advantages of money and family support. 

When Claymore took off Ian found himself surrounded by people he was unable to relate to because they came at problems and possibilities from a completely different mindset.It had been hard to learn to speak their language and understand their points of view.He still struggled with it often.

The only thing that made it easier than what Lip had been through was Ian was surprising everyone, not letting them down.

“Turns out you’re the smart one.”Lip said, breaking into Ian’s thoughts again.

Ian glanced up at him again, looking for the sarcasm that usually accompanied a comment like that.When he did not see it, he clarified, “The lucky one you mean.”

“Nah.I shouldn’t have said that.”Lip shook his head, wearing an apologetic smile.“Garry couldn’t do what he does if you didn’t do what you do.”

Garry could, but no one would know about it.It had been luck that they met, but after it had been a partnership.Ian often thought the reason they had been able to connect was because both of them were wired differently.They just clicked somehow.

“So we’re cool?”Lip asked, standing up.

Ian stood up too and embraced his brother.“Yeah.We’re cool.”


	38. Gonzo Cracks a Knee

“I’m really sick of waiting rooms.”Mandy muttered.Sometimes she wished she still had something to study for or that she was a little less organized at work.There was nothing to do for the hotel’s New Years Eve party or for Ian’s. She was all caught up so unless someone called with a fire for her to put out, she didn’t have any distractions from worrying about how long Mickey’s surgery was taking.

“This is the last one, thank God.”Ian replied.He also looked bored and in need of a distraction.

In an effort to provide one she asked, “He gets to come home today, right?”

“If things go okay, yeah.He restarts PT on Monday, but has to stay off it until then.” Ian confirmed.After a moment he added, “You know he plans to move back in with you after he gets cleared for the stairs.”

Mickey might be telling himself that, but it was obvious it wasn’t what he ultimately wanted.There was the added complication she had given away his room to Iggy.“Yeah, that’s gonna be a problem.Iggy moved all his shit into Mickey’s room already.I packed up what’s left of Mickey’s stuff.I’m bringing it over tomorrow.”

“You need to tell him then.” Ian said.“He needs to know now so he can make arrangements.”

Mandy rolled her eyes. “Riiight.We both know he’s not leaving your place.”

Ian shook his head.“He told me yesterday.He’s leaving.”

“He doesn’t mean it.”Mandy knew Mickey wanted to stay with Ian.She could see it with the sort of clarity reserved for crystal and cut glass.He was just fighting it.

“I think he does.”Ian replied, looking sad.

“He’s just scared.”Mickey had been through hell.He had never trusted easily and Ian had broken his trust.Getting it back was going to be a challenge, but they were well on their way to restoration in Mandy’s opinion. 

“No.He’s right.”Ian said and then turned soulful, deep green eyes on her.“We have to stop trying to maneuver him into doing what we think he wants to do.For one thing, he knows we’re doing it and he resents it.For another, I want him to be with me because he wants to be, not because I give him no choice.”

“Well, fuck.Iggy’s moved in already.”Granted that was a single garbage bag of clothes and some other shit he could get on a plane, but she had already given him Mickey’s room because leaving it sitting empty was stupid. Besides, Mickey living with her had never been permanent.Mickey knew it had only been until he was back on his feet.

“It wouldn’t be the first time Iggy’s slept on a couch.” 

Mandy could not deny it.Iggy had crashed on a number of couches.“True.”

“And Mickey’s still paying half the rent even though he hasn’t lived there in almost three months.”

“Also true, but I paid all the rent for the first few months after he got out and I got him back on his feet.”In addition to a roof over his head, she had bought him food, clothes to interview in and alcohol to drown his sorrows. 

Mickey had pulled himself together and paid her back for all of it.She was proud of him.So proud.There weren’t really words for how much she admired her older brother’s resilience.Mickey had proven it could be done.Now it was Iggy’s turn.She wanted him to have the same chance. “That’s what I’m trying to do for Iggy.”

“I know you are, but you have to admit their situations are nothing alike.Mickey got an education.He landed a great job.Iggy dropped out in middle school, can barely read and has zero marketable skills.”

Which to Mandy meant Iggy needed the room more than Mickey did.Iggy’s situation _was_ very different from Mickey’s, but not as bad as Ian was assuming.“He got a job at a garage near our place starting on Monday.He’s also enrolled in night school to work on his GED.He’s fucking trying, okay?”

“I’m not saying he isn’t.I’m just saying the situations are not the same.Iggy’s not like Mickey.”

Everyone who met them could tell there were light years of difference between Mickey and Iggy.Other than the blue eyes, they barely even looked like they were related.Iggy was tall, broad and blonde compared to Mickey’s short, stocky frame.Were Mickey was smart and fast on his feet, Iggy was slow and plodding.Mickey gave orders.Iggy followed them.Mickey was not dyslexic and Iggy was.Holding them to the same standards was unfair. 

She was about to give Ian an earful when a woman in scrubs entered the waiting room and called out, “Milkovich?”

“That’s us.”Ian raised his hand.

***

“Ian?”Mickey asked, looking groggy and only half awake.

Ian squeezed his hand and said, “Hey, man.I’m here.How’re you feeling?”

“Drunk.Really drunk.”Mickey slurred sounding happy.Ian loved that about him because he thought when you saw someone drunk you saw who they really were underneath the learned societal constructs.Some were mean drunks, some where sloppy, some were huge flirts and some were just happy.

“They gave you the good stuff, huh?”Ian asked, smiling.

“Guess so.”Mickey offered a crooked smirk.Then he said, “Wanna go home.”

“We’ll get out of here in a while.You have to sober up first.” Ian’s smile grew wider.He knew Mickey was talking about his house, not the apartment in Brooklyn.In vino veritas and all that.Mickey might go back to Brooklyn for a while, but he would come back to the Upper East Side soon enough.

After a long pause during which Ian thought Mickey had fallen back asleep Mickey broke the silence by changing the subject.“I don’t hate the dog.The fuck’s it called again?”

“Scraggles.Vee put her foot down on having a dog named after her.”The dog had also not answered to EeVee but did to Scraggles.It had basically chosen it’s own name and there was very little fuss about it.Yevgeny didn’t seem to really care what the dog was called as long as he got to play with it.

“Oh, but it was a Pokémon, I thought.”Mickey scratched at his head like he did sometimes when he was confused.

“It was, but we’re back to Scraggles.”Which Ian liked better anyway.The little black terrier mix was indeed a scraggly little thing. 

“Shoulda been a pit bull named Killer.”Mickey said.“Nothing screams gay quite like a purse pooch in a fucking sweater.”

“Well, we _are_ gay so what’s the problem?” Ian asked, because the little dog was growing on him and buying it sweaters was sort of fun.He and the kids had had a great time buying doggie clothes online the night prior while Mickey had been sleeping.

“Nothing, man.”Mickey replied like it was a silly question.He shifted his weight and then complained, “Need to piss.”

“Here.”Ian handed him the urinal the nurse had left hanging on the side of the bed for just this occasion.

With no hesitation Mickey pushed back the sheet and hospital gown covering him, whipped out his dick and used the urinal like there was nothing weird about exposing a body part he had kept carefully hidden for the past couple months.Even when Ian danced for him, Mickey jerked it inside his sweats or under the covers.

Ian had started to wonder if something terrible had been done to Mickey’s genitals given how weird he was about letting Ian see them, but his dick looked the same as it always had.

Seeing it again was a huge turn on. 

Mickey finished urinating and held out the urinal for Ian to take. 

It took Ian a second to tear his eyes away from Mickey’s dick and once he did, Mickey smirked at him.“Like what you see?”

“Missed what I see.”Ian replied.

“You could show me yours.”Mickey replied, as Ian watched Mickey’s dick begin to pulse to life.

Mandy ruined the moment by reminding them, “Jesus, you’re not alone here.Put that thing away, Mickey.”

Mickey very quickly covered himself looking annoyed.“Why’re you here?”

She uncrossed and recrossed her legs, uncomfortable.“Because you’re my brother and I’m your power of attorney if anything goes wrong.Once you marry this idiot then you two can do this shit all by yourselves.”

“Can’t get married.” Mickey retorted.

“Gay marriage was legalized in New York in 2011 and nation wide in 2015.”

“Oh.”Mickey looked happy for a second before his face fell.

To change the subject, Ian said, “Now you just have to eat something and seem sober and they’ll let you out.”

“So bring on the grub.”Mickey replied.

***

“How’s he doing?”Fiona asked as Ian took the final step down into the kitchen. 

He had just put Mickey to bed.He had elevated Mickey’s heavily braced knee up on a few pillows and tucked him in with a glass of water and a urinal within easy reach.He had also set an alarm on his watch to wake Mickey up for his next round of pain pills.“Good.He’ll probably sleep until dinner.”

“Cool.I needed to talk to you anyway.Are you still okay with Frank going to hospice?”She asked.

Ian went to the fridge and pulled out a beer.It was surprising how calm he felt.“Yeah, why?” 

“He’s disoriented enough that the hospital ethics committee said we make the decisions now.They know it isn’t what he wants, but there is literally nothing they can do for him so they’re letting us put him in hospice.There’s one on York Avenue that has a bed, but since Frank is indigent they won’t take him unless we pay a cash deposit and sign a contract for the rest.”

“Give me the number and I’ll take care of it.” Ian agreed easily.He could not care less about how much it cost if it offered his family a little peace of mind.

“Thank you.”Fiona handed over the card for the hospice. 

Ian sat on the couch and made the call.The consultant who answered the phone went over the information the hospital had sent them.They talked about comfort measures and the dialysis and paracentesis services Frank would continue to receive as part of their palliative care program.They would do everything they could to keep him happy and comfortable until he ‘transitioned’.

The price tag for this was insane, to the tune of $1500 per day just for the room plus extra fees for medications, dialysis three times a week and paracentesis as needed for comfort.The doctors would also be billing him for their services.The hospice wanted a week in advance which Ian paid with his credit card. 

The second Ian hung up with them he called his personal accountant.Ian had set up notifications to keep his spending in check if he went manic.This was going to exceed the safe spending limit per day by a huge margin.

After that, Ian sat there for a few minutes awe struck by the irony of it all.The hospital and hospice bills would likely total out far in excess of the amount Frank had tried to blackmail him for two years ago.

Fiona came and sat beside him on the couch.“I thought maybe we could take him over his favorite foods and stuff.Maybe a nice bottle of scotch since they won’t keep him from drinking like the hospital did.What do you think?”

“Whatever you want.There’s scotch in the wine cellar.”There was some really good scotch down there. Drinking himself to death had always been Frank’s goal.Let his final few sips be the best of his life.Ian did not care.

Mandy plopped down on the couch on his other side, resting her head on his shoulder and wrapping her arm through his.“Why are you doing all this for that piece of shit?”

“If it wasn’t for the kids he’d be dying on a street corner alone.” Ian replied, resting his head on top of hers.“But I don’t think Debbie or Liam could handle it.So, as big an asshole as he is, I don’t want them to look back and wish we had done something more.”

“Huh.” Mandy grunted in response looking thoughtful.

“I love you, little brother.”Fiona said from his other side.

Uncomfortable, Ian stood up, pulling his arm away from Mandy.“I’m gonna go make sure Mickey’s okay.”

***

“Family’s hard.”Fiona said into the awkward silence that had descended when Ian left.

“Yeah.No shit.” Mandy agreed.She had laid awake many nights wishing her father was dead and wondering if it would really make a difference or if the damage was already too deep to be undone. “You think things will get better when he’s gone?”

“I don’t know.”Fiona replied, looking thoughtful. “It’ll be different that’s for sure.”

“I mean not having to worry about him fucking things up for you, that’ll be better, right?” Mandy worried all the time about Terry getting out and destroying everything she and Mickey had built.

“Maybe it’ll be like when your dad’s locked up and you guys get to do what you want to do for a while.”Fiona said, reading Mandy’s mind.

“I really hope it’s better than that.” Terry never stayed in prison for long and his children lived with that knowledge hanging over their heads, acutely aware he would take their lives back over with brute force the second he was free.She doubted Fiona would ever understand what a Herculean effort it had been to get away from him and make her own way in the world or how fragile that freedom was. 

“I do, too.”Fiona agreed.Living with Frank came with it’s own demons and they showed all over her face. 

“Frank was never super evil about Ian being gay, was he?”Mandy asked, because Ian had never seemed nearly as concerned about hiding his sexuality as Mickey was.

Fiona shook her head.“For all his asshollery, Frank is pretty open minded.He had no trouble pretending to be gay to scam those activists.He only made gay jokes when he was trying to get a rise out of Ian.I don’t think he meant anything by them though.Not really.”

“That’s why Ian’s willing to help, I guess.” Because in spite of everything else, at least Frank had let him be who he was.It might have just been neglect, but maybe it was also Frank’s way of giving Ian room to love and be loved.

“And why Terry will die alone and no one will feel too bad about it.”Fiona replied, eyeing Mandy from under her lashes. 

“That bastard will die in prison.”If not this stint then the next one.Terry never stayed out for long and as he got older his temper was becoming more unpredictable.His self control was slipping.This made him more dangerous but also more vulnerable.Someone would take him out at some point.All she could do was hope that moment came sooner than later.

“Good.”Fiona sneered, then her expression softened. “You know, I never thanked you for being my brother’s beard in high school or for getting Lip into college or for being Ian’s friend when everyone else sort of gave up on him.There’s a lot more to you than I ever gave you credit for.”

“Thanks, I guess.”Mandy heard the compliment and also the insult.

Fiona leaned over and put her arms around Mandy.“No, I mean I’m really glad Ian has you as his friend.”

“Oh, okay.”Mandy awkwardly returned the hug, confused about the motive, but willing to accept it. 

***

Mickey woke up mildly disoriented.One look at the coffered ceiling though and he knew where he was.“Ian?”

“Yeah?”Ian answered from the other side of the Great Wall of Pillows. “You okay?”

Mickey’s stomach growled.“Hungry.”

“We had spaghetti and meatballs for dinner.Can I get you some?”Ian asked, rising up above the pillows so Mickey could see his face.

“That’d be good, yeah.” He was hungry enough to eat damn near anything.He looked around and the room was dark other than Ian’s bedside light.“What time is it?”

“Nine.”Ian crawled out the bed.He had not changed into his pajama’s yet. “You slept most of the day.Are you hurting?”

Yes he was, but it wasn’t unbearable.Mickey reached for the bed controls and sat his side up.“No more than I expected.”

“So, a lot?”Ian asked standing by the bedside, staring at him like the harder he looked Mickey might somehow burst open and reveal the secrets of the universe or some shit.

“Basically.”Mickey grunted when he tried to shift and the pain in his knee that had been a dull ache became a more intense stinging, burning ache.

“Next pain pill is in an hour.Can you make it that long or do you need it now?”

It was going to hurt.Surgery hurt.It was worse now, but still not unbearable.He could deal with his knee.His stomach was demanding attention though.He had eaten some crackers to get out of the hospital and it was not enough anymore.“I’m good.Just starving.”

“I’ll be right back.”Ian said as he ducked out of the room.

Mickey was dozing when Ian came back purposefully making a lot of noise to ensure Mickey was not startled by his sudden presence at his bedside with a tray table loaded with food.“Here.”

Mickey took a bite of the spaghetti.It was not as good as his, but good enough.It tasted like it came from a jar.“Who made this?”

“Vee.” Ian replied, sitting down next to him on the bed.

“Not bad.”Mickey complimented around a mouthful.

Ian cracked a teasing smile.“Glad it lives up to your exacting standards there, chef.”

“So hungry I don’t care.”Mickey said between bites.He glanced at Ian. “You okay?”

“Yeah.Moved Frank to hospice today.”

“Wasn’t that the goal?”Mickey asked, because Ian looked weird.

“Yeah,” Ian agreed, “just makes it more real I guess.”

“You sad he’s dying?”Mickey asked because he still did not understand this.He would feel nothing but relief when Terry died.

“Not really.”Ian said, but not with enough conviction for Mickey to believe him. 

“But a little?”

“Hard to imagine a world without him.”Ian replied. “I mean, I can’t imagine a life were he can’t come along and fuck it up.It feels surreal.” 

Mickey understood the feeling well.If he let himself think about Terry too long, the fear of his father getting out and fucking up everything he had gained was almost paralyzing.His greatest worry was Terry would hurt Ian if he somehow got the chance.

“Miss you.” Popped out of his mouth.The thought of possibly losing Ian to his homophobic father made him realize he didn’t want to be mad at the ginger idiot anymore. 

“What?” Ian asked, not keeping up.

Mickey sighed and pushed the now empty dinner tray out of his lap and made a come here gesture with one hand while pulling back the covers with the other.“Hate fighting with you.It fucking sucks.”

“I hate fighting with you, too.”Ian smiled a huge, toothy grin and quickly climbed in next to him, careful as always, but their shoulders touched and that was enough for Mickey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So....mostly moved in now. At least it feels livable, finally. Cough is almost gone and I go back to work Monday! Wooo hooo! More wooo hooo is I landed a job at another hospital for a lot more money that I start in a couple weeks. I’m super excited about it.
> 
> Also, I seriously love you guys. I love how much you discuss things in the comments. The show glossed over so much, moving one outrageous scene to the next without ever considering the damage those moments left behind. Mickey and Ian’s relationship would invariably be complex as a result and the differing ways we perceive what’s good for them is truly interesting. I love both characters, so I’m trying to be fair to both of them while also trying to be somewhat true to the Shameless universe. So, in the end, thank you for sharing your ideas and thoughts with me. It means a lot!


	39. Chapter 39

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is a method to my madness...

Mickey woke up so he could throw up.

The nausea was so unexpected he had no chance to control the spew other than trying to lean over the side of the bed as much as possible.

When the heaving ended he slumped back against the pillows.It was wet and cold which made sense as he was covered in sweat.His throat was sore, his chest felt heavy and everything ached though his knee was the worst of it.

The nausea was still there and he knew it was just a matter of time before he threw up again.More concerning was the liquid feeling in his gut.

“Hey Ian?” He called in a loud voice over the Great Pillow Wall. They had shared the bed so Mickey stood a chance of waking Ian up if he needed him, and he needed him. Now. He had no idea what time it was and could only hope the redhead was able to wake up and hear him. 

“Huh?” 

Thank god.“I need to get the the john, man.”

“Oh, okay.”Ian responded sleepily.

“Now.Like right fucking now.”Mickey said clapping a hand over his mouth and clenching his ass cheeks like he never had before.

Apparently his tone of voice was urgent enough Ian hopped to it.He jumped out of bed and came around to Mickey’s side of the bed. 

“Fuck.”Ian muttered, his brow knitting in concern as he bent down and heaved Mickey into his arms bridal style and made a beeline for the toilet.This did not prevent Mickey from blowing out both ends before they got there.Later he would be humiliated. Right now he felt so bad he couldn’t muster the energy to care.

Ian acted as if nothing had happened and gently held Mickey upright as he pulled his pants down and sat him on the toilet.Once he assured himself Mickey was stable where he sat he stood back and pulled his barf covered shirt off over his head.With a teasing smile he said, “Well, that was a hell of a good morning.”

“Asshole.”Mickey muttered riding another wave of nausea, hoping it would pass.

Ian put a hand on Mickey’s sweaty forehead and then drew back and frowned.“I thought so.You’re burning up.”

Mickey was usually a pretty healthy guy.The last fever he could remember was when he was a child and it had been horrible.This was worse.“No shit.”

“I’m gonna call Gonzo.”Ian said, clearly worried.

“Yeah, okay.”Could an infection set in this fast?Before he could really consider the question he was gripped by a coughing fit that turned the lapping waves of nausea into a tsunami. He barely managed to choke out, “Need a bucket.”

Ian whipped the trash can from the corner in front of him just in time.Mickey barfed into it at the same time his bowels let loose again.It was fucking miserable.

“Jesus, Mickey.”Ian muttered from above him.His hand was on Mickey’s back turning slow, soothing circles.

The coughing stopped and the nausea ebbed enough Mickey was able to sit back up.Ian handed him a wad of toilet paper to clean off his chin.“Fuck.”

“Can I leave you long enough to grab some clean clothes and my phone?”Ian asked.

“Yeah.”Mickey said before a coughing fit took over.It made him throw up again.

Ian came back, phone up to his ear talking to someone while he held out a fresh shirt and some shorts to Mickey.The effort necessary just to hold up his arm to take the offered clothes was scary. 

Ian wandered out again and came back with a thermometer.“Under your tongue. Is your throat sore?”

Mickey nodded as he shoved the probe under his tongue knowing the number was going to be high.Still he was surprised then the thermometer beeped and pulled it out of his mouth and looked at it.It read 102.3.

Ian snatched it away and read it to whomever he was talking to and then he walked out the room again.Mickey took that moment to change his shirt.He needed to change his shorts too, but he didn’t have the energy.Maybe later.

“Dr. Gonzo is sending over a friend of his that does concierge medicine.He doesn’t think this is related to your surgery.He’s thinking you either have food poisoning or the flu.”Ian said as he re-entered the room.

“Great.” 

“Carl also has whatever you have. He started getting sick yesterday.I was so caught up in your surgery and getting you home and settled I didn’t think about it until just now.”

Mickey grunted in response. Fuck Carl.

***

“So, the good news is Ian, Svetlana, Yevgeny, Kassidi, Ford, Amy, Gemma and Liam, the vaccinated ones, all test negative for flu.The bad news is the rest of you test positive.” The concierge doctor, Dr. Chakilam, said.She was a petite west Asian woman who, as calm and nice as she seemed, had an aura of authority Ian instantly respected.“I’m ordering Tamiflu for everyone who tested positive as well as some other medications to help control symptoms.”

“My daughter and I only do natural remedies.”Debbie said, sniffling.Her cheeks were red and her eyes overly bright which in combination had always been a clear signs she was getting sick.

Dr. Chakilam was unfazed. “Then you and your daughter will suffer worst and longest.”

Debbie’s expression went sour. 

Ian understood.He had to be damn near dying before he would take something Dr. Brynner had not prescribed. As much as he hated them, taking his psych meds was vital to maintaining the life he had built.The balance he achieved was fragile and maintaining it was difficult. Changes to his medication regimen upset that balance so he avoided them unless she agreed he had no choice.

“I’m sending over a nurse to start IV fluids on our two symptomatic patients along with a couple home health aids since the rest of you who aren’t symptomatic yet will be in the next 12-24 hours. We are going to try to get ahead of the worst of it.”Dr. Chakilam told the people gathered around her. 

No one looked happy, but surveying the group it was easy to tell most of them were already starting to get sick.There were glassy eyes, red cheeks, pale faces, weak coughs and uncomfortable expressions all around.

“Flu is highly contagious so it is important from a public health standpoint that you make sure you wait for 48 hours after your fever breaks to return to normal activities outside the home.”Dr. Chakilam raised her hands to ward off protests.“This means no work, no shopping, no walks, no nothing out of the house.”

“All of us?”Fiona asked.

“Just those who tested positive for flu.All of you need to be very careful about hand washing and covering your coughs and sneezes because the flu virus can live on hard surfaces for 24 hours.”She turned to Ian.“If you have staff who come into the home, I would advise them to stay clear until 48 hours after the last fever breaks.”

“Yeah, okay.”Ian agreed, sort of awestruck at how all of this was playing out and all the things he was going to have to change because of it.Primary among them, he was going to have to cancel his New Year’s Eve party.

“We need to get back to Chicago though.”Kev protested. 

Dr. Chakilam gazed up at him with a very firm expression.“48 hours after your fever breaks you may go home.I will write whatever excuses are needed to prevent problems with your jobs and school.”

“But...” Vee started.

“No buts.”Dr. Chakilam cut her off.“This is a public health hazard.You cannot fly until you are fever free for 48 hours.Period, full stop.” 

“The bar though.”Kevin whined, even though it was obvious he was about to be miserable.He was red, sweaty and his eyes looked glassy.

Ian tore himself away from his New Year’s Eve party to think about the Alibi Room.He knew how hard it was to be self employed and he knew how much they loved their bar.It was the heart of their little corner of the Southside and meant a lot to all of them.Ian was about to offer to cover the cost of the bar being closed while they recuperated, but Svetlana beat him to it.

“You call bartenders.Have them pick up extra shifts.Manage inventory from here.”Svetlana said, practical as ever.Kev and Vee now had one full time and one part time bartender they employed who could be asked to pick up extra hours.Svetlana turned to the doctor.“We are not infected.I and Yevgeny may leave, yes?”

“Yes.In fact I’d recommend it.”Dr. Chakilam agreed easily. 

“I will also take Liam, Amy and Gemma.” Svetlana named off the unaffected kids.“We will have sleep over.”

Fiona visibly relaxed and Vee muttered a thank you.

“Can Scraggles come, too?”Yevgeny asked, wearing his cutest, most persuasive expression.Ian would have caved but Svetlana was made of sterner stuff.

“No.” She replied in a firm tone.She softened a little to say, “Scraggles stays with your father to help him get well.”

As Yevgeny began to protest, Ian alerted Dr. Chakilam to two other potential patients.“Mickey’s siblings might also have the flu.I texted Mandy and told her to get herself and Iggy tested.”

“They’re part of the same outbreak?”

“Maybe. They’ve been staying with us for the holidays.”And Mandy had planned his soon to be cancelled New Year’s Eve party.

“Are either of them vaccinated?”

“Mandy says her work required it, but she doubts Iggy was.” Ian replied as his phone chirped an incoming text.He glanced at it.“She sent me his info though so I’ll reach out to him, too.”

Dr. Chakilam nodded. “From a logistics point of view, if Iggy has it, it would be best if he comes here to be treated with the rest of you.” 

Ian nodded as his phone chirped again.Mandy was asking him if he wanted to cancel the party.No, he did not want to, but he had to. It was only three days away.He texted her back.//Can’t have a party in a sick ward.Sorry//

“Dr. Chakilam picked up her overcoat and handbag.“So, I’m off.I’ve got other people to see today.I will swing by again tomorrow morning.This is my card if you need to reach me.The nurse will be Brytni and she is at the pharmacy and then will come directly here.”

“Okay. Thanks, Doc.”Ian said as he walked her to the door.

//I’ll send cancelation notices.You’re still going to have to pay for a lot of this stuff with a last minute cancel.//

//I know.Send me the invoices.Sorry Mandy.//

And with that, the second shittiest holiday season Ian could remember came to an end.

***

Mickey was still on the toilet when the nurse came.He had felt worse, but never this bad outside of a hospital setting.He was cramping badly, still nauseated and whatever water remained in his body came out his ass every time he dry heaved or coughed.

Her name was Brytni and she looked a little like Mandy but more petite and somehow softer. She got an IV started and hung a bag of normal saline from a hook on the back for the door.She asked him a few questions and then gave him a dose of Phenergan through his new IV before she told him she would be back in a half hour to give him some Imodium, Tamaflu and a pain pill because by that time he should be able to keep them down.

Ian had come up with her and as soon as she left began regaling Mickey with everything the doctor had told him about the epidemic inside their house and how since Carl got it first he was probably the source.

Mickey really didn’t care.He wanted desperately to lie down, but was afraid to move from the toilet.

“I had to cancel the New Year’s Eve party, too, which sucks.” Ian complained. “Will you be alright if I take a shower real quick?”

“Yeah.”

Unconvinced, Ian side eyed him.“You sure?”

“Just hurry the fuck up.”Mickey grumbled.He didn’t need Ian hovering over him asking if he was okay ever three seconds.He needed the Phenergan to start working.

“Okay.” 

Ian was wearing a towel when he poked his head back in a few minutes later. “You still okay?”

Mickey still felt like shit, coughing, achy, crampy, too hot while at the same time too cold, but at least the nausea had calmed to a dull queasiness.His knee was throbbing inside the brace and he really hoped Brytni had some IV pain meds to get him over the hump while the hydrocodone he knew she intended to give him kicked in.“I’ll live.”

“Do you want to go back to bed, or do you need to stay here a little longer?”Ian asked, letting the towel drop and stepping into snug fitting boxer briefs.

“Bed.” 

Ian pulled on gray sweat pants as he said, “Okay.I’ll be right back.”

It felt like a long time before Ian finally came back.He was carrying a basin and a bunch of wash clothes and towels.Though he knew exactly what Ian planned to do Mickey still asked, “What’s this shit?”

“Well, you’re kinda covered in shit, piss and vomit, so this is a sponge bath.”Ian replied, confirming Mickey’s suspicions.“I can get one of the aids if you don’t want me to help.”

“I’ll do it myself.”Mickey did not want Ian to see him naked.Not yet.Not like this.

“You can barely keep yourself upright.” 

This was true, Mickey had to admit.He felt weak as a newborn kitten.

“You need help.” 

This was also true as much as he hated to admit it.

Mickey thought for a moment it would all be easier if he was just able to slump down off the toilet and sleep on the bathroom floor for a while.Getting cleaned up was not high on his priority list at the moment.Laying down was.“Can you just help me down onto the floor for a little while?”

“No.” Ian refused. “I can help you back to bed though after we get you cleaned up.”

It was a catch 22.Mickey could not dispute the fact getting into bed in his current state would feel disgusting, but he did not want some stranger touching him nor did he want Ian looking at him. He would just sleep on the bathroom floor for a bit until he had the energy to get cleaned up himself.He grabbed the hand rail beside the toilet and tried to pull himself up without putting weight on his knee.

Ian was instantly by his side, pushing him back down.“The fuck are you doing? Mickey, you had surgery yesterday.You have to stay off that leg.I’m not letting you sleep on the floor, man.It’s a fucking mess.Look at it.”

Mickey looked and what he saw reminded him of Frank.

“I can get one of the aids to help you if you prefer.”Ian said again.

“Maybe just kill me?”Mickey replied, because everything hurt and Ian had a point and he was too tired to argue anymore.

Ian took that as permission and started tugging his wet, sticky, stinking tee shirt up his back.Mickey grabbed the front of it.“Stop.”

Ian stopped.“I know you have scars, Mickey. Dr, Mo told me, remember?”

He knew some of it.He did not know all of it.Trying to explain how much and why he did not want Ian to see was so fucking hard.“Just...”

Mickey could not find any more words because there were no words to describe what he had endured, what he remembered of it and how much it disturbed him when he had to touch it himself.

Ian just stood there waiting for what felt like forever to Mickey.He understood this was Ian giving him time to figure out what he wanted to do which was a step in the right direction but also frustrating as hell.He looked down at himself again and was grateful his nose was stuffed up.He sighed.

“I’ll do it as fast as I can, okay?You won’t be exposed too long, I promise.”Ian resumed tugging at the hem of his shirt, apparently taken Mickey’s sigh as acquiescence.Mickey grabbed it again, holding it down over his front.

“I really can get the aid if you want.”Ian said, stopping and moving away from him.

Mickey did not want some stranger touching him, asking him what happened, feeling sorry for him.Ian was going to do this and Mickey was going to let him, it was just going to suck.Staring at floor, Mickey said, “No, I just...it’s really bad.” 

“I love you.Scars don’t change anything.”Ian reassured, running his fingers through Mickey’s sweat soaked hair.

“I saw my guts.”Mickey spit out then clamped a hand over his mouth as if somehow he could hold it all in.

They were once again silent for a long time, though Ian’s hands were on his shoulders, gently kneading at tension knots Mickey had not known were there.He was focusing on his breathing certain he was going to panic soon and wondering why he hadn’t already. Maybe he was just too tired to muster the energy. 

The images were in his mind’s eye and he was freaked out by them, but not as much as was usual.Ian would not understand unless he told him because what was left was not nearly as bad as what had been.“When I had peritonitis.They did surgery to clean out the infection but things were so bad and so swollen they couldn’t close the wound when they were done.”

Ian sucked in a breath like he was going to say something but the dam was breached and words flooded Mickey’s mouth.“They were doing a sedation vacation, like where they let the drugs wear off to see if you’ll breath on your own.They must have thought I was still really out of it, which I guess I was, but then...then there was this horrible pain in my stomach and I tried to grab it to make it stop but I was cuffed to the bed so I was fighting to get loose and make them stop and I saw...I saw...it was...it was like _Braveheart_ shit.”

“Oh my god.That’s...wow.” Ian stuttered.“I can’t even imagine.”

Mickey had never liked the ending of _Braveheart_.Even though the disembowelment was not shown, the horror of it was tangible.Even if his guts hadn’t been hanging out like he imagined in the movie, he still saw them. No one was supposed to see that shit.Ever.“It fucks with me.”

“That would fuck with anyone.”Ian agreed, hands still on him though no longer kneading, just holding tight like a hug using only hands.

It took a while for the images to clear and for Mickey to focus again on Ian and the hands that were still on his shoulders, just there in silent support.Mickey sighed and sat up a fraction.Ian’s hands stayed on him.Feeling a little better to have gotten another horror out in the open, Mickey sighed and patted one of Ian’s hands.

Taking the pat as agreement to get the show on the road, Ian asked, “So how do you want to handle this?”

“Fast as fucking possible.”

“Okay.”Ian nodded and pulled Mickey’s shirt up to his arm pits before Mickey reluctantly held his arms out so it could come all the way off.Warm immediately hit his back and cooled just as fast as the wash cloth dragged over the skin of his shoulders down to his waist.Then it came back again first his right arm, then his left.“Lean back.I’ll be quick and I won’t stare.”

As much as he didn’t want to, Mickey closed his eyes and leaned back exposing the horror that was his torso to Ian.

There was a hitch in Ian’s breathing but no other indication he was put off by what he was seeing.The washcloth returned, softly gliding over his neck and then down across his chest, followed by a very quick pass over his abdomen that made the bile rise again in Mickey’s throat, but then it was over and a warm thick towel passed over his shoulders, arms and torso.

“Arms up.”Ian commanded and Mickey complied allowing the redhead to dress him in a fresh tee shirt.

“I’m gonna take your pants off and wash your legs first, then I’ll give you the washcloth so you can get the rest, if you want.”

“Okay.”

As Ian bent before him to pull off his pants, Mickey leaned forward across Ian’s shoulder. 

“You okay?”Ian asked.

“Tired.”It was the Phenergan combined with the ebb of adrenaline. Mickey knew both from past experience.“Just wanna lay down.”

“Give me a second and I’ll get you back to bed.” Ian washed his left leg and then his right thigh and foot, the only parts of his leg uncovered by the brace.A fluffy towel dried off his damp skin and then there was only one area left. 

“You ready?” Ian asked because he was going to let Mickey do this part himself.

Mickey did not have the energy to care if Ian touched him anymore.“Just hurry the fuck up.”

“Okay.”Ian said.There was nothing fondling about the way Ian touched him.It was perfunctory and kind of weird since Ian had never touched his dick before without the express intention of turning him on.Weirder still was when Ian first used a lot of toilet paper to wipe his ass before another perfunctory cleansing with a washcloth.Mickey had been dreading Ian touching him there since he could be freaked out by his own hand on his ass, but it was instead weirdly disappointing.This was not how Ian touched him and Mickey didn’t like it.

Ian either didn’t notice or didn’t care.He tugged basketball shorts up over the brace and then stood Mickey up so he could pull them the rest of the way up.Mickey just leaned against him, too tired and achy to do anything more.

Ian put his arms around him and just held him for a moment before gently sliding an arm behind Mickey’s knees and lifting him.Mickey sagged into his chest about to fall asleep when he remembered the IV.“Get the bag.”

“Oh, right.Thanks.”Ian had to do some maneuvering to get them turned around enough so Mickey could reach it.

The bedding had been changed.The comforter was now a dark almost purplish blue velvet.The covers were already pushed back so Ian was able to lay him down in the bed easily.Ian pulled the blankets up over Mickey’s body.He took the bag of IV fluid and hung it from one of the head board’s curly cues.“What else can I get you?”

“The nurse so she can give me whatever meds she has and I can pass out.”

“Will do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So a few things:  
> 1\. Flu with digestive issues is uncommon, but does happen. I had it once. It was very much as described. I wish it on no one. Ever.  
> 2\. Dr. Chakilam, in many ways, is me. I’m very pro-vaccine.  
> 3\. I’m trying to be fair to an alternate medical view point, but if it reads like a struggle, that’s because it is. I’m not against essential oils and whatnot, I believe there is some benefit, but I prefer it as adjunct treatment rather than primary.  
> 4\. I’m sorry for the continuing Mickey torment, but it moves the story along on multiple fronts. I promise, he does not suffer in vain. :)


	40. Quarantine

Ian walked out of his bedroom and softly shut the door behind him.

Mickey had fallen asleep almost the second his head hit the pillow.Ian had felt sort of bad getting Brytni to wake Mickey up and give him the pain pills and an IV dose of morphine, but Mickey had fallen back to sleep almost immediately.

If only that was the only thing he felt guilty about.He had known things had been bad forMickey, but he had not really understood how bad.Even hearing about it from Dr. Mohammed had not prepared him for what he had seen.

In the past he had enjoyed how hairless and smooth Mickey’s skin was.It was very different from his own which was part of the appeal.He was covered in freckles and would probably look like an orangutan by the time he was 40, as Mickey liked to tease him.Ian teased him back about looking like a hairless cat.It had been an easy banter, both of them just sensitive enough about the issue to rise to it, but not so concerned the teasing was hurtful.

Mickey had scars.Lots of them.Cigarette burns, cuts, scrapes, stitches, Ian had seen them all.They were clustered on his limbs and a few on his back.His abdomen had been mostly untouched and Ian had loved to run his hands over that smooth, perfect skin.

He had tried not to look, but once he had seen the big Braveheart scar down the middle, cutting like an ugly ridge between gaunt abdominals, he had looked at the others.There was another big one on the left side, curving under Mickey’s ribs and around to his back and a number of smaller scars scattered over his chest, abdomen and back. 

What the fuck had happened to him in there?

Ian took a moment to walk through the many, many conversations he had had with Dr. Brynner about his feelings of responsibility for Mickey going to prison. 

Mickey was the product of a violent, criminal home and had become a violent criminal himself.Going to prison was a logical conclusion to the life Mickey had been living.Ian knew all of this, but the specific event that sent Mickey to prison was his fault.No amount of talking about it would convince Ian otherwise.Being an off his meds bipolar person in the grip of mania when all of it happened did not make him feel any less responsible.Maybe in a court of law he wasn’t guilty, but in his own mind Mickey never would have suffered so much if it hadn’t been for him.

Ian shook his head.His thoughts were going nowhere good.Needing a distraction, he went downstairs where he was confronted by Svetlana and Yevgeny engaged in a fight over returning to their apartment without Scraggles. 

This was an easier guilt to handle. 

He did not regret getting the dog, though he clearly should have gone about it differently, because the dog guaranteed him a seat at the family table.Yevgeny was already head over heels in love with it and would be determined to visit his dog as often as possible.Ian had too much invested in Svetlana and Yevgeny.He could not handle being cut out if things went south with Mickey.

Liam, Gemma and Amy, who were packed and ready to go were siding with Yevgeny about Scraggles and the situation was escalating.Ian just watched, not wanting to get involved as Svetlana was explaining to the children that Scraggles could not get the flu because Scraggles was a dog and dogs do not get human diseases.

Undeterred, Yevgeny announced, “I’m going to ask my papa.He’ll let Scraggles come with us.”

With that the little boy stomped his way to the stairs and disappeared.Svetlana met Ian’s gaze and nodded toward the stairs.It was clear Ian’s job was to make sure the dog stayed at his house.He would have gone anyway because Mickey was absolutely miserable and in no condition to argue with his son. 

When he made it to the third floor landing Yevgeny was banging on the door shouting, “Papa, open up!”

“Your dad’s super sick, Yev.Maybe we should just let him sleep.”Ian had forgotten the door now automatically locked.Maybe he could put an end to this before Mickey had to deal with it.

Just as he said it, the door opened and Yevgeny shot Ian a triumphant look as he darted into the room and crawled up on the bed carefully staying on Ian’s side. Scraggles followed him onto the bed but immediately abandoned him to curl up next to the Mickey shaped lump. 

Yevgeny immediately presented his opening argument.“I’m worried about Scraggles. I don’t want him to get sick, too.Can I take him home with me, Papa?”

“What did your mother say?”Mickey mumbled from under a mountain of covers.

“She said I could if you said it was okay.”Yevgeny lied.

Ian sighed.He didn’t want to become enemies with the kid, but at the same time he could not let Yevgeny get away with lying or pitting his parents against each other.“Yev, you know that’s not what she said.”

“It’s what she meant though.”Yevgeny said, flashing angry blue eyes at him before focusing on the lump of bedding hiding his father.“Everyone here is too sick to take care of him properly.”

“Yev.”Ian gave him the look he had learned from Fiona.It was a look that said, I know you know you’re lying.Stop.Right now.

Mickey coughed a few times and then scratched out, “Ian’s not sick.He’ll take care of the dog.”

“He’s too busy taking care of you!No one even walked Scraggles this morning and he peed on front of the door.I cleaned it up.”Yevgeny retorted as he grabbed the dog and clutched him to his chest.

Oops.The dog had only been there for a couple days so Ian was not used to the new routine yet.He made a mental note to go walk the dog the nanosecond he got Yevgeny out of this room so Mickey could rest. 

“Why don’t you and Ian take Scraggles for a walk so you can tell Ian everything he needs to do to take care of him while you’re gone, okay?”Mickey asked, clearly trying for the same thing.

“It would be easier for everyone if I just took care of Scraggles at our apartment.”Yevgeny countered. 

“Except your mom is allergic to dogs, Yev.”Ian said, butting in to the argument.He could hear the fatigue in Mickey’s voice.

“They make pills for that.I saw them on TV.”Yevgeny retorted with a triumphant smile.

“The answer is no, Yev.”Mickey said.

“But, Papa...”

“No.”Mickey cut off the whining before it went into high gear.

Yevgeny paused for a moment and then his face scrunched up in a sneer.“You suck!”

“Yeah, yeah, worst dad ever.Got it.”

Not liking how Mickey sounded and very aware Yevgeny was not ready to concede defeat yet, Ian tried to redirect him again.“Yev, thanks for reminding me to take Scraggles for a walk.You wanna come with us before you go home?”

It didn’t work.Blue eyes bright with angry tears, Yevgeny scrambled off the bed, still holding Scraggles and yelled, “I hate you both!”

“He doesn’t mean that,” Ian told Mickey as the door slammed.“It’s just a last ditch effort to get you to cave.”

“Yeah, I know.Glad you got a dog now?”Mickey croaked before he broke into another coughing fit.

“Maybe not my best plan ever.You rest.I’ll take care of this, okay?”

“Fucking right you will.Your mess, you clean it up.”Mickey mumbled, sounding half asleep already.

Ian agreed.It was his mess and he would deal with it.

When he went back downstairs Yevgeny had resorted to tears, the last negotiating strategy of a six year old.It was working how it usually worked, which meant not very well.Svetlana had her arms around him and was talking to him quietly in Russian, but it was clear from her tone she was not giving in.

Yevgeny finally recognized the futility of his effort and gave up with a sniffle. 

“We will come back in a few days to check on Papa and Scraggles.You tell Ian what to do for Scraggles between now and then.You call him to remind him and check his work when we come back, yes?”She looked at Ian who nodded.It was his turn.

“Okay, Mama.”Yevgeny said, wiping at his eyes like a miniature Mickey.He clapped his thigh and Scraggles ran over to him.Then he turned those huge, nearly irresistible blue eyes on Ian.“You ready, Ian?”

Eager to put the fight behind them, Ian agreed.“Yeah, let’s take Scraggles on his walk and you tell me everything I need to know, okay?”

“Yeah, okay.”Yevgeny nodded and started for the stairs, Scraggles hot on his heels.

***

Mickey felt like death, or at least like someone who wondered if this was how he was going to die.His body ached so bad even his hair hurt.His knee was fucking miserable. He still felt a little nauseated, but his gut had dried up due to dehydration.His throat was sore, he could not control his cough and he was simultaneously too hot and freezing.

He wanted to sleep, but could not get comfortable. Phenergan’s main side effect was drowsiness and he was very tired, but just could not drift off.He was laying there exhausted and miserable, needing to pee but not desperate enough to brave the cold outside of his blanket cave when the door clicked open and Ian’s soft voice asked, “Hey, Mickey, how’re you feeling?”

“Like shit.”It was an understatement.

“Svetlana finally got the kids out of here.” Ian said, the sound of his voice getting closer.Then the bed shifted as Ian sat beside him.The shifting hurt and Mickey turned a little to adjust to it.

“I really fucked up with the dog.”Ian admitted, because of course he had fucked up.At least he was owning it now.That was something. 

Moving had unsettled the phlegm in his throat and Mickey attempted to hack up a lung for a while.Ian just sat beside him, rubbing his chest through the blankets.His chest felt heavy already but somehow the added weight of Ian’s hand was soothing.When the coughing finally stopped and he caught his breath again, Mickey asked, “Yev give you your marching orders?”

“Oh yeah.Scraggles is seriously high maintenance according to your son.”

“I bet.”Kids never really stopped negotiating.Making Scraggles too hard to care for was just another attempt to take the dog home.There would be more because his son was nothing if not persistent and creative. 

“You’re still too hot.”Ian said, pulling the blanket Mickey had wrapped around his head to the side and touching Mickey’s damp forehead.

“Feel cold though.”Mickey shivered at the loss of heat and burrowed deeper under the remaining covers so just his nose was poking out.

“Can you even move under all these blankets?”Ian asked.

Not really, but the weight of them felt good and they kept away the chill.His knee probably needed less weight on it, but the huge immobilizing brace was rigid enough Mickey figured it made the extra weight irrelevant.He didn’t really care but he asked, “How is everyone else?”

“Sick, but not as bad as you and Carl so far.”Ian confirmed. 

“That’s good I guess.” 

“Debbie’s on her way to miserable, but she’s treating herself and Frannie with essential oils.”

“Does that shit work?”Mickey had to croak out the last bit as another coughing spell overtook him.

“Maybe?I don’t know, but Debbie is super stubborn.The more you argue with her the deeper she digs in.She’s been told by the doctor, the nurse, one of the aids, Fiona and Lip to take the Tamaflu.She’s not budging.”

“Gingers.”Mickey muttered.They had to be the most hard headed people on the planet.

“Hey, I’m not that stubborn.”

“Like hell you aren’t.”Mickey could easily list numerous instances where Ian had proved ridiculously hard headed, no reflection necessary.

“As if you have room to talk.”Ian snorted.

“Am I due for more Phenergan yet?Could use a pain pill, too.”It was the hydrocodone he really wanted, but without the Phenergan he feared it would just come right back up.

“Dunno.I don't think it’s been long enough but I’ll ask the nurse, okay?”Ian replied and shifted on the bed, causing Mickey to have to adjust his position again to avoid hurting too bad.

“Yeah.”Mickey said, because Ian could not see him nod when only his nose was exposed.

“Are you ready to eat something?”

Mickey’s stomach churned at the mere mention of food.“Fuck no.”

“Maybe some water?”Ian tried again.

“Got the IV.”Mickey reminded.His mouth might be dry, but his body was getting hydrated.He would drink if he thought his stomach would tolerate it, but the risk outweighed the reward.“Sometimes being filthy rich is pretty cool.”

Ian chuckled as if it were somehow funny.“Yeah, gotta thank Gonzo for introducing me to concierge medicine.We may never go to the doctor’s office again.”

“Thanks.”Mickey said because he was feeling grateful and also because he was tired and wanted Ian to stop talking.

“I wish I could do more.I hate watching you suffer.”

“Remind me to get my flu shot next year?”After this there was no way he would ever skip the flu shot again.He would give his left testicle to avoid doing this again.

“And get caught up on all the other vaccines you probably missed, will do.”Ian agreed.“I did that once I had insurance.”

Mickey thought about all the shots he had missed growing up.There were probably tons of them.He’d had a tetanus shot, he remembered from when Kash shot him, but he didn’t know if he had gotten all the normal vaccinations when he was a kid.If Ian had not, he probably hadn’t either.He assumed that was a lot of shots.“Don’t wanna be a fucking pin cushion.”

“It’s better than getting the measles or hepatitis though.” 

“Guess I’m too old to get autism, huh?”Mickey had been in hospital once during flu season and had heard the ranting of many doctors and nurses about how much science was behind vaccines and how one loudmouth actress had undone decades of work to eradicate preventable diseases.

“Guess so.Besides, I think it’s fucked up how people act like having an autistic kid is a fate worse than death.Garry’s doing pretty good, you know?”

As described, Garry was atypical in just about every way Mickey could think of, but whatever.“Yeah.Will you go get the nurse now?”

***

The next two days passed in misery for Mickey.His physical therapy was cancelled.He missed his appointment with Dr. Mohammed.Ian carried him back and forth to the bathroom like a rag doll.He didn’t have the energy to care.

On the morning of the third day, Mickey woke up and knew his fever had finally broken. He felt like hammered hell which was a big step up from feeling like death, so that was a plus.Mostly, he was tired.Bone weary.

He had been bedridden for four days, but had barely slept during that time.He had dozed on the edges of sleep, maybe napped a little here and there, but had been too uncomfortable to truly rest.

He reached out to the bedside table and felt around for his phone.He had multiple messages and texts which he ignored.It was 6:47 am on December 31st.Happy fucking New Year.

He pushed back some blankets and raised up on his elbows to look across the Great Pillow Wall.Ian wasn’t there.

His gazelle was probably out running. 

There was scratching at the door and it took Mickey a moment to realize it was probably the dog trying to get in.The sound was annoying.“Mildred, let the dog in.”

The door clicked open and after a couple more scratches to push it open, Mickey braced for impact as the small black dog bounded onto the bed and right up next to him wagging it’s tail so hard Mickey thought it might knock itself over.He scratched it behind the ears and the little creature curled up next to him in the perfect position to make it easy for Mickey to keep petting him.

“I see Scraggles finally got through security.” Ian said from the doorway.“You look better.”

“I feel better.”Mickey answered.Just feeling like shit was a major improvement. “How’s the rest of the sanitarium doing?”

“Pretty good.Carl’s on the mend.No one else got it as bad as you two other than Frannie.That’s gonna be some shit.”

“Why?”Ian had told him a little about it when Mickey had been too miserable to do anything other than listen.Debbie had decided to treat herself and her daughter naturally using essential oils.The doctor, who was apparently very used to this, had suggested using the oils as an adjunct therapy to a Tamiflu.

Debbie had refused and it seemed like it was working okay since she didn’t get as sick as Mickey and Carl had. Frannie had seemed to be doing okay too and it had made Ian wonder out loud to Mickey at how much hostility the nurse was directing at Debbie.He had been thinking about firing her the last time they had talked.

“Frannie’s fever was 106.1 yesterday morning when the nurse got here.She called 911 andFrannie’s in the pediatric ICU at Kravitz.It was touch and go for a while yesterday, but she’s doing better now.The nurse and Dr. Chakilam reported Debbie to DCFS for negligence and child endangerment.She’s devastated.Keeps saying she thought Frannie was doing better since she was finally sleeping.”

Debbie was a good mom who had miscalculated the severity of her daughter’s illness and was probably beating herself up way more than any judge could do.“You gonna work some magic?”

“I’ve got a lawyer on it.We all knew Frannie was sick, but none of us thought it was that bad, you know?It’s like it happened really fast.One minute she was just a little girl with a cough and a sore throat and the next she was damn near dying.”

Mickey had felt like death with a fever that never exceeded 102.3.He could only imagine how much shittier 106.1 felt.Poor kid.Also on his mind was, “How’s Frank?”

“Still alive.”Ian sighed and Mickey could not tell if it was relief for disappointment.

“Fucking cockroach, man.” He mumbled back.

“Right?”Ian asked, incredulous.Usually a response like that lead to a rant, but instead he asked, “You need anything?”

Mickey yawned, glad Ian did not want to talk more.“Nah.Just wanna sleep.”


	41. Feeling Better, Feeling Worse

Mickey slept for almost 24 hours straight because when he woke up with a raging need to pee it was dark, Ian was gone and when he looked at his phone it was a little past six am.

The urinal was where he expected it to be.For a moment he worried he would overflow it.He almost did, finally drying out with less than an inch to spare.As he was very carefully moving the full jug back onto the towel on the bedside table the door opened and Ian and Scraggles came in.

Scraggles immediately jumped on him and he almost lost control of the urinal.“Damn dog.”

Ian swiped the urinal out of his hand and took it to the bathroom while Scraggles took up his now customary place wedged against Mickey’s side. 

When Ian came back and returned the now empty urinal to it’s place on the bedside table he asked, “You feeling better?You look better.Like a lot better.There’s some color in your cheeks again.You're skinny as hell though.Need to feed you.You feel good enough for some food?”

Ian’s rapid fire speech made the hair on the back of Mickey’s neck stand up.He eyed the redhead closely as he muttered a noncommittal, “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Cool. Cool.”Ian responded with a wide smile.

Mickey’s heart sank.He knew that tone.He knew that smile.He hated both of them.“How are _you_ doing?”

“Great.Really great.”Ian’s smile grew even wider and he was bouncing on his toes.“Ran 12 miles this morning.Felt like I could run a marathon, but didn't want to be gone that long.”

“Oh.” Mickey grunted, pulling himself up in the bed while trying to decide how to tackle what he was 99 percent sure was a manic episode.Ian had said several times how amazed he was that the stress he was under had not triggered one yet.Apparently the time had come.“That’s farther than you usually go.”

“Yeah, I know, but what the hell, right?I guess being cooped up in the house with a bunch of sick people left me with some steam to blow off.”It was an excuse Mickey might have believed once upon a time.Now he knew it for what it was. 

“I’m still fucking wiped out, man.” Mickey said, because the way Ian was looking at him, like a hungry man preparing to dig in to a big meal, was something Mickey remembered from nights of far too much sex that had somehow still not been enough for Ian.

Oblivious to Mickey’s apprehension, Ian squeezed into the bed beside him and threw an arm over Mickey’s midsection making Mickey’s skin crawl.He smelled of cold and sweat and something else Mickey had noticed in the past when Ian was not in his right mind.He pushed Ian’s arm off his stomach. “Go take your shower.You stink.”

“I thought you liked how I smell.”Ian purred against his ear burrowing in a little closer and sliding his hand back down over Mickey’s abdomen. 

No.Just no.

“Get out, Gallagher.”Mickey growled, pushing at the redhead hard, trying to shove him out of the bed.He couldn’t do this now.

Ian didn't budge.He raised up on an elbow and the hand on Mickey’s belly trailed up to cup his cheek.Wide green eyes looked down at him.“Why?What’s wrong?”

So much was wrong.“For both our sakes, get the fuck out of this bed.Now!”

“Jesus. Fine.” Ian scoffed as he got up, annoyed.He turned away and pulled his shirt off revealing his broad back as he headed off to the bathroom.Whether or not he slammed the door was open to interpretation.

“Fuck.”Mickey crashed his head back on the pillows. This was bad.

He pulled out his phone and dialed a number he usually tried to avoid, but he needed help.The moment she picked up he vomited out words so fast he almost didn't understand himself. “I think Ian’s manic.”

There was a pause, then a sigh and then Svetlana asked, “How does he act?”

“Talking fast, ran 12 miles instead of eight, more...” He paused, not sure how to say what he was feeling.Finally he went with, “clingy than usual.”

“Ah.I see.”She said.

That was all she said.Too hyped up to be patient, Mickey demanded, “So what do I do?”

“Ask him to do inventory.He will get mad.He will sulk, but he will do it.Then he calls Dr. Brynner.She fixes meds. Then he becomes pain in the ass because he starts to feel not so good, like coming down from a high.He worries he fucks up things which makes him sad and angry and very sorry.He apologizes for every little thing.This lasts a few days, then back to normal. Usually.”

“What happens when it’s unusual?”Mickey asked though he was pretty sure he already knew the answer.

“Either meds do not work or he swings too far other direction and gets depressed.So another inventory, another call to Dr. Brynner, we go through cycle again until he finally levels out.”She said it very matter of fact, like there was nothing strange about it.It was just the way it was.

Which was basically like it had been way back when. “Fuck.”

“Do I need to come there?”She asked.

“No.I just don’t want to...” Mickey trailed off. He could not articulate what he wanted. 

“I come over.”She announced.

“No.I got it.”But he was talking to empty air when he said it. She had already hung up.

“You called Svetlana because you think I’m manic?”Ian asked, voice low and angry.

Mickey had not heard Ian come out of the bathroom.He turned to look at the redhead.Ian was standing there naked, beads of water still glistening on his skin and dripping from his red hair.Mickey turned his eyes away.“I was worried about you.”

Ian stepped into the room and toward the bed.He sat on the edge of it.“Then why didn't you talk to me?Why the hell did you call her?”

“Because it’s been six years and the last time we went through this it didn't go so well, remember?” Mickey snapped.He was very uncomfortable with Ian’s nakedness.He wanted to tell the redhead to get dressed, but didn’t want to call attention to Ian’s dick.The redhead was touching it enough already.Saying something would just make it worse.For now, all he wanted to get Ian some help.“You told me yourself, you, Svet and Mandy worked out a system.”

“I’m fine though.” Ian protested.“Can’t I just be happy?”

“You are not fine.”Mickey shot back, rock solid in his opinion.

Ian lurched up and paced away.“It’s been six years, how the fuck would you know?”

“You are not fine.”Mickey repeated.

“Maybe you don’t know me that well anymore.”Ian said as he came back, expression nothing but chin.He was gearing up for a fight.

Mickey coughed for a moment.When he caught his breath he agreed, “You’re right.”

Mickey didn’t know this version of Ian because it was unknowable.This version had no filters, no restraints, no limits.This version was nothing but pain for Mickey.

“I just feel good today, alright?”Ian continued to protest.“Why did you have to turn it into something it isn’t?”

“Do your inventory.”Mickey said.He would not beg.Ian had told him when the people closest to him asked him to do an inventory he did it because he knew he wasn’t the best judge of when a manic episode was gearing up. 

Ian’s chin went up even higher and the redhead was staring down his nose at him.It was the first time Mickey had ever asked this of him so it had to sting.Mickey spread his hands attempting to soften the blow.“Please, Ian.”

The chin came down a fraction and Ian stalked over to his side of the bed and pulled a worn notebook out of the top drawer.He then marched over to the sitting area.As he sat down he glared at Mickey and said, “To prove you wrong.”

“I want to be wrong.”Mickey replied.He really did.He wanted Ian to be happy.He wanted Ian to feel well.He wanted things to be how they used to be when Ian walking around naked was a turn on, not something that brought fear.

Because right now, Mickey was very aware of how vulnerable he was and how unstable Ian was.Ian had always been more manipulative and coercive than physical when trying to get Mickey to do what he wanted, but that didn’t mean much now.Mickey couldn’t imagine Ian hurting him the way he had been hurt in prison, but he had never imagined a lot of the crazy shit Ian had done.

“Fuck.”Ian snarled as he threw the note pad on the floor.

“What?”Mickey asked.

“You’re not wrong.God damn it.I hate this.I fucking hate this.”Ian looked devastated and Mickey could only imagine what it was like to never be able to trust his own happiness. 

“I guess I’ll call Dr. Brynner.Fuck.”Ian muttered as he reached for the phone that was usually in his pocket and discovered he was nude.He chuckled darkly at himself and then returned to the bathroom. 

When he came back out he was dressed and had the phone to his ear.He barely glanced at Mickey as he left the room.

***

Ian was in his office. 

Mickey was stealth watching him via Mildred.He felt mildly guilty about it, (and thus the audio was off) but he had seen how fast Ian’s moods could move from one extreme to the other.Nearly bed bound as he was, unless Ian came back upstairs there was nothing else he could do to make sure Ian stayed safe.

Ian had spent a while on the phone, growing more unhappy the longer the conversation lasted.He assumed Ian was talking to Dr. Brynner.When he hung up, Mickey was pretty sure he cried for a while.

Then Ian turned on his computer and lost himself in work.It was pretty boring from Mickey’s perspective, but Ian was intensely into whatever he was doing.

About an hour later, Fiona entered the office.She didn’t stay long.Mickey watched how her posture straightened as her concern grew.Her back always got stiff when she was worried. 

Svetlana arrived not long after and handed Ian a pill and a bottle of water.At that point Ian abandoned whatever he was working on and started pacing.Svetlana watched him from one of the teal chairs, expression neutral, almost bored.Ian paced and made wide gestures with his arms as he talked, clearly upset at the start but slowly winding down until he was leaning against the desk.They hugged it out and she left him alone. 

Ian went back to his computer.

Lip was entering the office when Mickey heard a knock on the bedroom door.Mickey closed the video feed and said, “Mildred open the door.”

“He takes new dosage.This is good, because it will be shorter than if she gives him new medication.”Svetlana said as she walked into the bedroom.

“Good.”

She sat down on the bench at the foot of the bed.Her clear blue eyes were on him.“It will still take time to work.”

“I know.”Mickey responded.While the moods swings of bipolar disorder might seem instantaneous nothing about the treatment was.Deciding which medications and at what dosages they would work best was a gamble.Waiting to see if they worked was an exercise in patience.There were no magic bullets or easy fixes, just constant vigilance and adjustments.

“He is concerned he does something to you.” 

“What?”Mickey asked, not shifting gears as smoothly as Svetlana.Then Ian’s nudity and hyper sexuality popped into his mind.“No.He hasn’t done anything to me.”

She eyed him for a long moment and then seemed to relax.“You should tell him this.”

“If he ever comes back, I will.”Mickey replied.Injury made him a captive and the audience had to come to him. 

“He will come back.”Svetlana said with a gravity that was ironic given this was Ian’s room in Ian’s house.He would indeed come back.She sighed.“He feels shame.”

Ian had been ashamed six years ago.He was ashamed today.He would be ashamed tomorrow.It was unnecessary, but Mickey wasn’t surprised.Ian had always been overly responsible.When things went wrong, he was quick to assume it was his fault in some way.“It’s not his fault.It’s a fucking miracle he’s made it this far with me in the house, the shit with Frank and all his family here.”

Svetlana shrugged.“He had small episode before Christmas when we have trouble at Claymore.”

“He didn't tell me.”They had barely seen each other that week.Mickey had thought it was because Ian was so busy dealing with the game crisis.Now he suspected it was really because Ian had wanted to hide the episode from him. 

“It was managed, no need to concern you with all you go through now, too.”Svetlana demurred, expression stony like she was daring him to be upset they kept a secret from him.

Which meant she had aided and abetted.Mickey felt a spike of anger at both of them.“What else are you keeping from me?”

“It was minor.We caught early.Doctor changed dose and our carrot goes back to normal.He did not want to trouble you.”

“Whatever.”Mickey was pissed.Ian wanted a relationship, but he also wanted to keep secrets.Mickey was pouring out his soul and Ian was hiding things.Fuck that.

“In truth, small episodes we deal with about once a quarter.”Svetlana informed him.

Pissed as he was, somehow having a timeline felt like a rope he could hang onto.It helped.“So you do this shit every three months?” 

She shrugged.“Sometimes more, sometimes less.Sometimes it gets worse.Mostly, it does not.”

“You hold this whole shit show together don't you?”Claymore was just like the Alibi.He had made jokes about her being a shadow ruler, but damn, she really was.“None of this works without you.”

“You do not understand.It is teamwork, each from their strength.Ian is visionary.Garry is creator.I am foundation.”She told him and Mickey could see how that might be true.Ian was the guy with ideas. Garry was the guy with the ability to make Ian’s flights of fancy playable and Svetlana held everything else together so those two could do what they did.

“You are heart.”She said.

Mickey instantly disagreed.“The fuck I am.I just got here.You’ve been doing this for like four years now.”

“Then maybe I miss speak.Four years ago, you were Ian’s inspiration. Today, you are his reason.”She shrugged like it was obvious.“This makes you the heart.”

“Fuck, Svet.Way to pile on the pressure.”

“It is true.You play _Survive Southside_.You will understand.”She told him as she stood up. “Be gentle with our carrot.”

“When aren’t I?”He had been handling Ian with kid gloves.

She arched an eyebrow at him.

Fine.“I’ll try.”

She left.

***

About a half hour later, Mickey opened the door and Scraggles shot in with Yevgeny who was very carefully balancing a tray. Svetlana was behind them with a Coke and a glass of ice.

“Mama said you were feeling better.Do you feel better, Papa?” Yevgeny asked as he carried the teetering tray over to the bed.

“Yeah, little man.Almost good as new.”He felt exhausted and weak, if he was being honest, but Yevgeny needed his dad to be strong so Mickey was going to fake it until he made it.

“I made you a sandwich.”Yevgeny proudly announced as he set the tray over Mickey’s lap.

It definitely looked like a kid had made it.There was a mustard fingerprint on it.“Thanks, bud, I’m starving.”

As Mickey took a huge bite of sandwich, Svetlana said, “Family goes to hospice.Frank makes many problems there.”

“I thought he was delirious.”Mickey said after he swallowed.The ham and cheese sandwich was pretty good.Maybe his son had inherited the cooking gene.Wouldn’t that be something?

“He is less so now.”Svetlana shook her hear with a wry smile. “They say in hospice sometimes people get better for a time.”

“Huh.”Mickey grunted, shoving the last bite of sandwich in his mouth.He wanted another one.

“He demands to leave.”

Well, that sounded like Frank.The bastard seemed to exist to make things as hard as possible on other people.Mickey knew enough psychology now to armchair diagnose Frank with narcissistic personality disorder.He was incapable of thinking about other people and if he appeared to be, it was because he was benefiting in some way.Men like that had to be in control at all times which meant being in the hospital had to be about the worst possible place for Frank.He would not suffer alone, making sure everyone trying to care for him was just as miserable as he was. 

The hospital had declared him mentally incompetent and given his kids decision making power.That was how they got him into the hospice.Could he somehow have perked up enough to resume mental capacity?How did that work?Could he check himself out?“Can he?”

“Walk out? No.He does not walk.He cannot.Be transferred back to hospital, maybe?I do not know.This is what family goes to discuss.”

“Does Ian know?”Mickey asked because this might be the thing that had finally pushed Ian over the edge.

“Yes. They discuss yesterday.”Svetlana replied.“He does not know they go now.”

“They figured out he’s manic, didn’t they?”Both Fiona and Lip had been in Ian’s office.Fiona had clearly noticed.Lip probably had too.They had six more years experience dealing with Ian’s disorder than he did and if he saw it immediately, surely they had also.

“Yes.”

Having the family around had lost it’s appeal a while back.It was only going to get worse now. 

“What’s manic?” Yevgeny asked.

Well damn.That was a hard question.There was no easy way to describe Ian’s condition to his son so Mickey went for evasive.“It’s like being super, super amped up.”

“My soccer coach is always telling us to amp it up.”Yevgeny said looking both annoyed (he did not like his coach) and confused.

“Yeah, well there’s amped up for a game and then there’s the vibrating out of your skin, Superman complex version.”Mickey tried again. 

Yevgeny cocked his head, more confused.“Why is being Superman a bad thing?”

It was a terrible analogy, but what he meant was when Ian was manic the redhead thought he was invincible, which was the point.“Superman is the man of steel, invincible, right?”

Yevgeny nodded.

“He’s an alien with superpowers and no one can defeat him, right?”

“Unless they have kryptonite.”Yevgeny reminded him.

“Um, yeah.”The meds were Ian’s kryptonite.They brought him back down to earth and made him human again.

Svetlana rolled her eyes at him.It really was a bad analogy.She turned to their son and said, “Do you remember Ian tells you he has bipolar disorder and sometimes he gets too excited and other times he gets very sad?”

“Yeah.”Yevgeny nodded, and of course Ian had told the kid.Mickey was smacked in the face again with how much time he had missed out on and how much he didn’t really know about the people around him.

“This is what your papa means.”Svetlana said.“Too excited also is called mania.Depression means too sad.”

“So Ian is manic?”Yevgeny asked, looking between them for confirmation.Mickey just stared blankly at him.He did not know what had been said already so he wanted Svetlana to take the lead.

“Yes.” Svetlana confirmed and Mickey marveled at how nonchalant she was about it.“Do you remember what we talk about?”

“Yeah.When Ian is too excited, I can’t do stuff with him unless you say it’s okay because when he’s too excited sometimes he forgets to stay safe.”

“Exactly.”Svetlana smiled and ruffled Yevgeny’s hair.

Yevgeny squirmed away from her touch and then looked over at Mickey.“He’s really fun when he’s manic though.”

Mickey had flashbacks to when Ian had taken an infant Yevgeny on a joyride to Indiana. It had been the beginning of the end last time.If Ian endangered Yevgeny now...

“Perhaps, but you must help him stay safe, Yevgeny.”Svetlana chided.

“Yeah, okay.”Yevgeny agreed easily as he picked up Scraggles.He turned for the door and said, “I’m gonna go play with Liam.”

The moment the door closed behind their child, Mickey let our a long, deep breath.“Jesus.That is seriously fucked up.”

“We talk about many times.”Svetlana told him like it was no big deal.“Ian talks to Yevgeny about this.He does not want to repeat road trip.”

“None of us want to repeat that shit.”Mickey muttered.That had been one of the worst weeks of his life.

“Ian least of all.”Svetlana agreed.

“He okay?”Mickey asked, because he had not seen Ian since this morning and that had been a fight.

“He works.It is good that he works.”

How sick was it that Ian was best at his job when he was least in control of his thoughts? “Because this is when he comes up with the awesome game ideas?”

“No. Because when he works he does not do drugs, go to parties, have random sex, or buy Ferraris.”

“Oh.”In that context keeping Ian focused on work seemed like a great idea. 

She stood up.“I wish Frank dies soon so family goes home.He does better when they stay in Chicago.”

“Don’t we all.”


	42. Manic Moment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So....I’m a little uncomfortable with this one. Interested to hear what you guys think about it.

It was after dinner when Ian finally resurfaced.He let himself into the bedroom with a sheepish, “Hey, Mickey.”

“Fire crotch.”Mickey greeted and then mentally kicked himself.Calling Ian fire crotch called attention to Ian’s dick which was basically the last thing Mickey wanted Ian thinking about.

“You mad at me?”Ian asked, green eyes earnest and verging on teary.

Mickey never could resist Ian’s hang dog expression.He was just as susceptible now.“Nah, man.This shit ain’t your fault.”

“I’m gonna take another shower.”Ian announced, mood instantly lifted.Apparently he was done being sorry.

“Yeah, okay.”Mickey interpreted this to mean Ian was going to go jack off, because the shower was his usual place.In the past it had been the only place he could get any semblance of privacy.Now it was just habit.

It was probably 15 minutes later when Ian walked out rubbing at his wet hair with a towel.He was nude and sporting a semi.

This was something Mickey remembered from the last time he had seen Ian manic.The redhead had been insatiable and could get hard again almost immediately. 

Mickey tore his eyes away from Ian’s arousal and tried very hard to sound bored, or at least anything but freaked out, said, “You need to put some clothes on, man.”

Ian looked up at him, green eyes smoldering in that weirdly intense way Mickey associated with manic hyper sexuality.It was not really desire for Mickey specifically, but a need for sexual gratification no one person could ever fulfill for him. 

Smirking, Ian ran a hand down his chest, over his abs.“I could dance for you.”

As Ian’s hand reached his penis, Mickey turned his face away, frowning.“Not in the mood.Put some god damn clothes on.”

“Maybe you could dance for me sometime.” Ian suggested and in the periphery of his vision Mickey could see Ian’s pale form moving to music only Ian could hear.

“I don’t dance, asshole.”Mickey groused.He had never danced in his life, not even at his wedding.That had pissed Svetlana off something fierce.

Ian moved into his line of vision, fully erect now and still dancing.“You like what you see?”

Mickey ducked his head and fear jolted to life in him.Ian was pushing it and it was turning the redhead on.Mickey could not stop him if Ian decided to be a dick.Deliberately staring at his lap trying to control the increase in his heart rate and breathing, Mickey said, “I want to see less of it right now.”

“You love my cock.”Ian teased in a sing-song voice.

The redhead was not hearing him.Not even a little.“Fuck, Ian.Don’t do this.”

“Do what?”Ian asked, still teasing but sounding a little confused.

Mickey glanced at him and yeah, Ian didn’t get it.Mickey raised his shaking hands so Ian could see them.“Set off my fucking PTSD.Put that thing away.”

Ian’s face fell for an instant and then a glint of anger flashed to life in his eyes.“I would never do anything you don’t want.I love you.”

“Get dressed then.Now.”Mickey ordered, because this was not going anywhere good and he feared it would only get worse the longer it lasted.He reached for his pill box and put an Ativan under his tongue. 

“Mildred, play spank bank.”Ian said, and there was an edge in his tone to match the glint in his eyes.

The music sprang to life and in his peripheral vision Mickey could see Ian dancing to it like he used to do in the clubs, not how he danced for Mickey.This was pure seduction with sex as the end goal.Mickey’s skin started to crawl.Fuck, fuck, fuck.“Mildred, who’s still in the house?”

“Fiona, Lip, Kevin, Veronica, Debbie, Carl, Kassidi, Liam, Amy and Gemma.”The calm computer voice rattled off the list of names.

Ian glared at him and moved a little closer.“This is just for you, baby.”

“Great,” Mickey muttered.“Mildred, is Kev by himself?”

“He is at the bar.Lip is with him.”

“Show me.”An image appeared on the TV of Kev behind the bar cleaning up and Lip passed out in a barstool looking all the world like Frank 2.0.

“You’re not paying attention to me.”Ian said in his ear.Mickey jumped.He had not realized Ian had gotten so close. 

“I sure as shit am.”Mickey said, flinching back and pushing his way more toward the middle of the bed.“Mildred, mic on to Kev.”

“Microphone on.”

“Hey, Kev?”The big man paused and looked around trying to find the source of the voice.“Can you come up to Ian’s room?”

Kev still looked confused but he made a thumbs up gesture and moved away from the bar.

“What do you need Kev for?” Ian asked, turning around and giving Mickey an eyeful of his ass.

When Ian started twerking, Mickey almost choked.Holy fuck.

He knew Ian could not help what was happening now, but that did nothing to help his fear.His heart was pounding in his ears and he could hardly catch his breath.The room was closing in and he could hear them coming.

There was a hard knock on the door which jarred Mickey back into the here and now.Kevin was here.Thank fucking god.He told Mildred to open the door.

Kevin barged in, his eyes got very wide and he turned his back so fast he almost stumbled.“Woah!I’ll...”

“Stay.” Mickey ordered.Kev stayed though his back remained turned.Mickey breathed deep.He was safe.He was safe.It was going to be okay.Nothing had happened yet.Nothing would now.Centering back in the moment, Mickey gestured at Ian and ordered, “Ian, put some fucking clothes on.”

“Why?Kev danced.He fucking loved it.All those men rubbing up on him.The blow jobs.”Ian said, dancing over toward a very uncomfortable Kevin.“Guys give much better blowjobs, don’t you think, Kev?”

“What the hell has gotten into you?”Kev asked as he turned a little circle to keep Ian’s naked body out of his line of sight.

“He’s manic.”Mickey explained.

Ian whirled around to face him. “Fuck you, Mickey.”

“Do you need to do your inventory again?”Mickey asked, talking to Ian like he would to Yevgeny when the kid was misbehaving. 

Ian stopped dancing.“Why is Kevin here?” 

“I’d kinda like to know that, too.”Kev said, back still turned.

“Put some fucking clothes on, god damn it!”Mickey almost shouted at Ian.

“Is he here to _protect_ you?From me?”Ian asked, and Mickey had never seen the redhead look more hurt than in this moment.

“Wait, what?”Kev asked, finally turning so he could see what was going on.

Mickey hated the look on Ian’s face, but the redhead’s dick was still hard and Mickey was not going to let what he hoped would never happen have even a chance of happening.“How many times do I have to tell you to put your god damn clothes on?”

“You think I would _rape_ you?”Ian asked and now he sounded more angry than hurt.

“Ian, no.No, I don’t think that.”Mickey said and it was honest.He did not think it would ever go that far, but he didn’t want to even get close to it.He didn’t want to feel like he had moments ago.

Clearly pissed now, Ian demanded, “Then why is Kev here?”

“Because you are not safe right now.”Mickey retorted.“I need you to put on some clothes and then you’re gonna go sleep in Iggy’s room tonight, okay?”

“I would never hurt you.”Ian argued, “and this is my fucking room.”

Mickey didn’t think Ian would hurt him intentionally but the redhead would push things way, way too far.Hating that he was hurting the other man and scared that if he didn't this could escalate into things much worse, Mickey resorted to begging.“Please, Ian.Please.”

“Fuck you, Mickey Milkovich.Asshole!”Ian stormed out of the room, wrapping the towel around his waist as he went.

“What the actual fuck was that?”Kev asked.

“He’s manic.” Mickey replied.“He get’s really, really horny when he’s manic.”

“Oh.Wow.”Kev said.“That’s a major overshare, man.”

Yeah, it was.Trying to explain himself, Mickey stuttered, “I just, I mean, it’s not...”

“I get it.”Kev said, holding up a hand.“I remember the shit with the Ferrari.I’m gonna go make sure he’s okay.”

He made it three steps to the door and then turned, looking Mickey over with a critical eye.“Are _you_ okay?”

Mickey nodded. It was a lie, but what else was he supposed to say?

***

The next few days were miserable.

Ian had come back into the room three times to collect clothes and some toiletries.Not once had he looked at or acknowledged Mickey.

Everyone else was in and out of the room all the damn time reassuring him Ian was okay.

It was fucking annoying.

He still had a cough, still felt weak, still sometimes needed help getting up and was about as grouchy as he had ever been in his life.Knowing he was being an asshole was not much of a deterrent unless Yevgeny was around. 

He called and talked to Dr. Mohammed about it, but aside from being reassured he had done the right thing getting Kevin involved and being told he had to take care of himself first and Ian second, there was nothing Mickey could really do but wait.

This was not what Mickey wanted to hear.

Svetlana and Yevgeny were staying at the house again.There were also some people Mickey remembered from the holiday party coming in and out.

Svetlana explained it as part of their bipolar mitigation strategy.Claymore had redundancies built into every job in the company except for Ian and Garry for whom there were no replacements.“We encourage him work, because is good for him now.People come to work with him because many times good things come from mania, but Ian cannot capture because he moves too fast.Sometimes is all shit.”

“Bet your investors shit their pants every time this happens.” 

“Employees are only investors now.They know.Everyone knows.They too have problems.Many health issues, physical and mental.Ian hires them anyway.They do good work when they are well.” She replied. “So they treat him the same.It is how we work.”

“Is it getting any better?He’s avoiding me.”Mickey was watching over Ian the only way he could which was via Mildred, but it wasn’t the same as meeting Ian face to face.

“He begins to come down, yes.He yawns.This is first sign.He complains he feels emotionless and heavy.This is second sign.He begins to apologize to everyone.He will sleep a long time tonight, I think, then better in the morning.”

Mickey was apparently not part of ‘everyone’ because Ian had not said a single word to him.

“He is afraid to see you I think.”Svetlana said, doing her mind reader bullshit Mickey hated so much.

“The fuck for?”

She shrugged.“He does not tell me, but he says you are mad with him.”

“I’m not mad.I was never mad.”Mickey protested, because he had not been angry.He had been scared and tried to protect them both. 

“Maybe you tell him this.” Svetlana said as she rose from her seat on the couch.“Come down to kitchen.”

PT had come yesterday and told him he needed to be out of bed a lot more or his knee would not heal right. Mickey understood, but it wasn't just the pain in his knee he was contending with.He was also getting over the flu which was neither instantaneous nor easy.One hour with PT had exhausted him so much he had slept the rest of the day. 

On the upside, he was now making the trek to and from the bathroom by himself. It hurt to walk on, but there really wasn't anything keeping him confined to the third floor other than not wanting to have public confrontation with Ian.

They had a lot to talk through and all of it was private.Manic Ian had no filter and no off switch.If they got into it, he would air all of Mickey’s laundry without a thought.Mickey didn’t want anyone else to know his business so he was avoiding going into the public parts of the house where a confrontation could be overheard.“Yeah, maybe later.”

She paused at the door.“You come down and you talk.Let him come back to his room.He will sleep better knowing you are not mad at him.” 

“I was never mad at him.I just wasn’t in physical shape to deal with him.”

“Of course.Still you are not, but he is better.”She said.Mickey had seen no evidence of Ian being better, but disagreeing took too long.Svetlana’s head cocked, “Last night he does not go out.He is better.”

Hearing that was like twisting a knife already embedded in Mickey’s chest.

That was the other reason Mickey was okay with not talking to Ian.In the months they had now lived together Mickey could count on one hand the number of times Ian had gone out at night.Every time he had been very anxious that Mickey know who he was meeting, why, where they were going and when he would be back.

That all changed when Ian was manic.The first night Kevin and Lip had gone out with him.For the next three, Ian went out alone because Kev and Vee had gone back to Chicago and Lip was drinking himself into a coma for free at the first floor bar.It was good to hear Ian had stayed in last night when Mickey had been too worn out from PT to bother spying on him, but the damage was already done.

He hated waiting up, worrying Ian might not come home or would do something stupid.He hated not being able to be Ian’s wingman (even if he _really_ hated being Ian’s wingman).He hated watching Ian pulling condoms and lube out of his pockets and being relieved at least Ian was being safe.He hated reminding himself they were not a couple and he had no right to be upset about any of this.

Mickey hated how consuming the worry and fear were and how little there was he could do about any of it because that was the thing about bipolar: the constant underlying worry. 

There would never be a morning he would wake up and not assess Ian’s mood or behavior.Dr. Mohammed said that was a normal part of being in a relationship with someone with a mental illness.He also said with time Mickey would get better at seeing episodes coming, noticing the subtle changes that led to big swings in mood.Sometimes they might be able to head it off before it really started, most of the time they probably would not.Ian would be bipolar for the rest of his life.Mickey would have to live with it.Or not.

Svetlana cut into his thoughts saying, “There is security company Claymore pays to watch over our carrot.”

“What?”

“Very discreet, no?”She chuckled.“He goes nowhere alone.There is always someone nearby.They keep him out of real trouble.”

“He doesn’t know about this, does he?” Mickey sure had not.He had been oblivious to anyone watching them when they went out on their one and only date.

Svetlana smiled.“He signed contract.”

“Like how the Balls signed over the Alibi?”Mickey asked, because her cat that ate the canary smile told him that’s what had to have happened.

“He refused, but insurance required.”She sat back against the chair and the smile twisted into a smirk.“It was done.”

“Great, so how does that keep him from having his balls gargled by some geriatric cum guzzler?”

“Access is limited.”Svetlana said, as if this was the most obvious thing ever.

“How?”

“They keep unsavory men away.”

Mickey wasn't sure what to make of that.He’d been in gay bars so he knew most of those guys he wouldn’t touch with someone else’s dick but a manic Ian wasn’t picky.If they were keeping the sketchy guys at bay, “What about the savory ones?”

She shrugged.

“Fuck.”Ian still had access to partners who didn’t look terrible, but Ted Buddy had looked like a normal guy.So had Jeffrey Dahmer and...Damn it.

“He tries so hard, but this he cannot control.You either can live with or you cannot, because this, it does not change.”Of course she knew Ian fucked anything that moved when he was manic and that Mickey would be bothered by it.Then she shook her head and left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On the show, Ian was cheating and insatiable when he was manic...then they went Gay Jesus on us, but whatever.
> 
> Speaking only from my experiences with my brother, while the exact circumstances vary, the over arching pattern of manic behavior is weirdly predictable. He’s happy and flirty, then he starts spending too much and drinking too much, then the money runs out and he gets belligerent and mean, then the paranoia, delusions and audible/visual hallucinations start to creep in. If it gets that far it is legit terrifying. This is the pattern, every time. The only differences are how rapidly it develops and the point in the cycle when it’s recognized and treatment adjustments are sought.
> 
> So....based on that, this was pretty hard to write. I feel bad for both of them. It is, however, a huge part of their story both on the show and here, so it has to be dealt with. Balancing between the ambivalence incurred from Ian’s behavior - because he cannot help it, but it is shitty - and Mickey’s fear - which is warranted - was a struggle. 
> 
> Next chapter is the fall out.


	43. Talking it out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The preceding chapter invoked some very strong reactions. I thought it might. There is a lot I’d like to say about it, but I think for now I’ll just let the story carry on and hopefully it will all come clear as we go.
> 
> I did get a question about Mildred and how she works. In my fantasy world, Mildred is a network of cameras, mics and sensors that is integrated into everything in the house. She is like Alexa or Siri on steroids with a security component. She can control the doors and windows. Ethan designed her and she’s used at Claymore, Ian’s house and some other places. She’s not commercially available because Ethan is still tinkering with her. She has the voice of Mother from the Alien movie franchise. Ian and Mickey have total access to what she can do, though Mickey doesn’t really know that because Ian has not explained. Ian doesn’t fully understand what Mildred can do and Mickey understands even less. She’s really just a background character that I have no idea why I needed to write, but I did. She has a part to play, but she’s just sort of there as a tool.

As it turned out Mickey did not see Ian until the next morning.

It was early.The sun had not come up yet, but all Mickey could think about as he tossed and turned with the coughing and never ending ache in his knee was coffee.He finally got up, took his pills and slowly made his way to the elevator and downstairs to make some.

As he was watching coffee drip into the pot a shadow appeared on the landing.“Oh.Hey, Mick.”

Mickey turned away from the coffee pot and looked at Ian.

The redhead was dressed to go running.Mickey glanced at the clock on the oven.It was six thirty, Ian’s usual run time.Still he said, “You’re up early.”

“I was gonna run, but I...”

“No.”Mickey cut him off.He needed a little longer to prepare for this and Ian probably did too.“Go run.I’ll make breakfast.Want an omelette?”

“Um, sure.”Ian agreed, not giving Mickey his eyes.

“How many miles you gonna run?” Mickey asked because it felt like an indirect barometer for Ian’s mood.Because it also seemed a little obvious he covered for himself explaining, “For timing purposes.”

“Oh.Eight, like usual.”Ian replied.

Mickey held in a sigh, relieved and trying not to show it.“Cool.See you when you get back.”

“Yeah, okay.”Ian said as he trotted down the stairs and Mickey heard the front door open and close.

Mickey had 45-50 minutes to get his head together.He went to the fridge and surveyed the contents.Stocks were depleted and not what he usually bought which meant either Ian was ordering in groceries or other people were doing the shopping which was much more likely.

Still, there were eggs, tomatoes, onions and cheddar which was all he really needed for an omelette. 

He spent a moment sharpening one of his knives and then got to work on the vegetables.Next he cracked three eggs, removing the yolks from two and adding them to another bowl that he cracked another egg into.Ian might want to eat lean, but Mickey could use all the calories he could get.

The bread box was predictably empty except for some store bought trash pretending to be whole wheat.He took a few slices for toast.

He checked the time.Ian would not be back for at least another 30 minutes. 

He sat down on a stool with a cup of coffee and thought about what he wanted to say.Ian probably had some things he also wanted to say. It was early enough they probably wouldn’t have an audience.

They would have to talk Ian dancing and the Kevin thing and Mickey kicking Ian out of the room.He wasn’t expecting it to be a pleasant conversation. 

They would also need to talk about Ian going out, but Mickey didn't really know how to do it.They were not together which gave him no right to have an opinion about what Ian did with his body, but if Ian really wanted to be a couple then this was one of Mickey’s nonnegotiables.

His heart was a fragile little bastard and it was hanging on by a thread using the feeble excuse they weren’t a couple right now so Ian fucking other men didn’t matter.If they did get back together though, he couldn’t take it again.He would not.Ian needed to know that.

“Hey.”Fiona said from the landing.“I just came down for coffee.You cooking?”

There was a hopeful glint in her eyes, but Mickey was not going to play chef today.He had more important things to do.“For Ian, yeah.We gotta talk.”

“I know.” She nodded as she sauntered into the kitchen. She didn’t know everything, just that Mickey had kicked Ian out of their room.She didn’t know why because Kev had stuck to Southside rules and kept his trap shut.All any of the Gallaghers knew was they’d had a fight.“Go easy on him, okay?It’s hard for him when he’s coming down and we don't want to depress him, do we?”

Mickey glared at her, the condescension in her tone enough to piss him off.He had not done anything wrong.Ian hadn’t really either.It wasn’t his fault and that was what made the whole thing so hard. 

Having had time to think about it Mickey was half convinced it was all just a misunderstanding.Ian had been dancing, naked with a full chub, but just dancing.He was the one who had freaked out about it letting his terror of things past drive his reactions in the present.Ian would never force him to have sex.He never had, even when he had been insatiable and Mickey physically couldn’t keep up with him anymore, he hadn’t forced it.He’d just gone looking for sex elsewhere...not that that was better.It just was what it was. 

“Debbie and I are going to court today. Gotta be there by eight to meet with the lawyer.”

“What for?”Mickey asked, because he couldn’t think of a reason for anyone in the house to be going to court.Maybe Lip for a drunk and disorderly?

“Frannie?Custody hearing.”

Mickey had forgotten all about Frannie and the 106.1 fever.“You got a lawyer?”

“It’s as if Ian grows them on trees.”Fiona replied, filling her coffee mug.

“Good.She doing better?” The last he had heard about Frannie she had been in PICU near death. 

“The flu turned into pneumonia, poor kid.She was released to a temporary foster home yesterday.”Fiona told him and Mickey could only imagine how miserable pneumonia was on top of the flu.It sounded like the little girl was lucky to be alive.“This is actually the second hearing.They wanted Debbie to produce some documents we didn’t have to get last time.”

“So she’ll get her back today?”Mickey asked, because Debbie wasn't June Cleaver, but she really was a good mom by all the standards of the Southside.Mickey would have killed for a mom half as good as Debbie. She had just made an error in judgement. 

“Hope so. The judge is sort of a hard ass.The lawyer says it’s 50:50 right now.”Fiona informed him as she leaned against the counter.

“Why?We all had the flu.”Mickey protested.The house had been a god damn sick ward.

“Because DCFS is arguing denying Frannie access to medical treatment was neglect.Debbie is arguing she was treating Frannie using holistic remedies.”Fiona made a face. “No idea how it will end up.”

“They don't even live here.”Mickey muttered.Ian did not need this stress on top of everything else.Mickey just wanted Frank to hurry up and die so the rest of the Gallaghers would go back to Chicago.

“Doesn’t matter.It happened here.They’re in discussions with DCFS in Chicago.”She rolled her eyes.“You can imagine how unhelpful that is.”

Like his own family, the Gallaghers had been in and out of the system most of their lives. Their history probably wouldn’t help Debbie’s case. “That’s fucked up.”

Fiona nodded and then pierced him with grave, dark eyes.“Yeah, but the fact is, if the nurse hadn’t called 911 Frannie would have died.”

“It’s not like Debbie was trying to kill her.She just didn't know.”Mickey protested, but it was a weak excuse.There had been evidence all around her how virulent the strain in their house was and even he knew the flu was more dangerous for kids and the elderly. 

“Yeah.”Fiona agreed, though he could hear the judgement in her voice.It made him want to remind her about Liam and the coke, but he held his tongue.

If his father and Frank had been able to get their kids back, there was no doubt Debbie would get Frannie back.It just might take a while.“What’s the back up plan?”

“If Debbie loses today they’ll look for a more permanent placement, preferably with family.Since we all share a roof in Chicago and Debbie can’t afford to move out, they’ll probably look to Ian and you first.We really don’t have anyone else.”Fiona told him what Mickey already suspected.

“What are the odds?”Mickey asked, because he was already dealing with a Godzilla sized pile of shit.Not to mention, “I mean, Ian’s just coming off a manic cycle.”

Fiona dead eyed him.“Just be ready if you have to be.No way is Frannie going to spend one more second in the system than she has to.No way.”

Mickey wasn’t a total asshole.He didn’t want the little girl in the system either.He knew how tough it was and for a cute little freckle faced ginger, it would be worse.He just didn’t think he could take the added stress.Fiona couldn’t give two shits about what he could take though so he said, “Ian doesn’t need this.”

“No shit, but what else are we supposed to do?Claymore’s Ian Gallagher and his forensic accountant boyfriend?No way they wouldn’t give Frannie to you two.”Fiona argued.“Whatever happens, Frannie stays with family.”

***

“What was that about?”Ian asked, walking into the room just as Fiona was leaving.He had only overheard the last little bit of their exchange, but the look on Mickey’s face made him think it was more serious then just the two of them not getting along.They had never really gotten along.

“Frannie.”Mickey said as he busied himself putting two pans on the stove and lighting the burners. 

“Oh.”Ian had not thought about his niece in a while.That made him feel guilty because he should have been thinking about the little girl who had almost died in his house.It was fucked up he had forgotten about her.

“I’m sorry.”He said because he was, about so much.

“Me, too.”Mickey nodded as he put a little butter in each of the pans.

His back was still turned and Ian found himself staring.He had always like the line of Mickey’s shoulders.They reminded him of a boxer’s because no matter the angle there was always something coiled and guard up about Mickey.

The arousal accompanying the thought was just the final throws of an over active libido he knew, but damn Mickey looked hot this morning as he poured eggs into each pan and then stood there watching them cook.He was propped up on crutches wearing a black Henley and sweats, no real shape to either garment, but the mystery of what was under them was alluring.Ian’s dick twitched and he tore his eyes away from Mickey’s back, feeling guilty.

“I would never hurt you.”He blurted, because it was the part of all of it he was most upset about.He had scripted out what he wanted to say and this was not how it started, but fuck it.It was too late now. 

“I know.”Mickey flipped first one pan and then the second.

“You kicked me out.”Ian said, immediately wishing he could get back on script.He was the one who fucked up and this sounded like an accusation.Like he had a right to be mad at Mickey.

“You were dancing around naked with a monster chub and you wouldn’t get dressed.I have lost my shit over way less than that.What did you expect me to do?”Mickey asked, back still turned as he watched the omelettes cook.

“I don’t know,” Ian responded.All of that was true.Mickey had even dragged Kev into it by having the mountain of a man play bouncer.For Mickey Fuck U-Up Milkovich to feel so vulnerable he was willing to include someone else into their private drama was no joke.He had fucked up so bad, but at the same time he was absolutely certain no matter how bad his mania might get, “I wasn’t going to rape you or anything.”

“I know.I know that, Ian.”Mickey said as he folded an omelette onto a plate and held it out for Ian to take.“But you weren’t listening to me and you were freaking me out.”

“I’m so sorry.”Ian said as he accepted the plate.He should have listened.Why hadn’t he listened?

“I know.”

Ian looked at him.Mickey was staring right back. Ian dropped his gaze.

He should have stopped when Mickey asked him to, but he liked dancing for Mickey.It was the only thing he could do for the smaller man to make him feel good.In his head, Ian had known he couldn’t try to make out with him or anything like that because Mickey wouldn’t be able to tolerate being touched, but he could dance for him.His intention had been to get Mickey off. That had been the sum total of what he wanted.Where he fucked up was not listening when Mickey made it clear it wasn’t what he wanted.

He and Dr. Brynner had talked about it almost every day.His intentions didn’t matter.Mickey had told him no and he had not listened. He had not laid so much as a finger on Mickey, but it was still basically sexual assault.

That he had done such a thing, especially knowing what Mickey had been through, was more fucked up than anything he had ever done in his entire life.He just had not been able to see it at the time because he knew what he intended.That was a huge part of the problem with his mania.In the moment he was completely oblivious to his impact on other people.Then when he came down, the selfishness of whatever he had done was all he could see.

That Mickey had not immediately packed up and left was crazy.It’s what he should have done.It had to be what Dr. Mohammed had told him to do.But here they were and the man had even cooked for him, for fuck’s sake.Why was he still here?

Ian put down the plate.He couldn’t eat it.He didn’t deserve to.“I never wanted you to feel like that.”

Mickey shook his head.“You’re bipolar.That isn’t your fault.I know that.I do, but I can’t...I need...I have to know you’ll stop when I tell you to.”

“I know.I’m so sorry.”He repeated.That was why he had not gone back in to see Mickey.At first he had been mad about being kicked out but once he started coming down, he had felt too guilty to face Mickey.

How could Mickey ever trust him?Why should he even want to try?

Ian wanted to say it would never happen again, but he couldn’t.He couldn’t make his bipolar go away or change how the symptoms manifested.No matter how well he managed it, eventually he would have another manic episode.Maybe the lessons this one was teaching him would stick, maybe they wouldn’t.He had no way to know until next time. 

It was a bleak future to look forward to.

“What would you have preferred I do?”Mickey asked, apparently taking Ian’s silence to mean he was angry.

“I don’t know.The last thing I would ever do is purposefully hurt you.”Ian sighed.“I don’t know why I couldn’t see how uncomfortable I was making you.I can totally see it now, but I couldn’t at the time.I’m so, so sorry.”

“Fuck, Ian.”Mickey sighed.“Remember when I told you our issues were incompatible?”

They weren’t. Mickey had PTSD and Ian had been unable to respect it when he was manic.That was about as incomparable as things could get.Why was Mickey still here?

“Why are you still here?”

“Honestly?I have no fucking idea.”He put his empty plate in the dishwasher as Ian let that blow hit him.It was over.He had ruined it.

“I can put you up somewhere.It’s the least I can do.”

***

Mickey took a moment to consider Ian’s offer.

He had thought about this, if he should just pack it in and leave.Part of him wanted to, thought it would be better for both of them to just breathe for a while and then see where that left them. 

Another part wanted to stay and that was the part he was trying to untangle.

He and Dr. Mohammed had been talking about it but Mickey still didn’t have it sorted out.What had happened was fucked up, but in some ways Mickey thought he had blown it out of proportion.

Ian had held himself together far longer than Mickey would have expected given all the stress he was under.Mood swings were inevitable.He was doing everything he could to manage his bipolar, but it would still get away from him from time to time.That could not be helped.

Another thing he couldn’t stop thinking about was how different it had been this time.The last time Mickey had seen Ian manic and had to deal with his hyper sexuality Ian had been all over him, insatiable.They had enough sex in a just a few days to last most couples months if not years.When it still wasn’t enough, rather than force Mickey past what he was willing to do, Ian had found sex elsewhere.

This time he danced. 

Somehow that meant something.It showed restraint was possible and Mickey wondered, if he had not freaked out, how far Ian really would have taken it.

He wondered a lot of things.“Do you want me to leave?”

“Of course not, but I don’t want to...I can’t...I’m just not good for you.” Ian stuttered out. “Even Dr. Brynner thinks that.”

“She does?”Mickey was surprised to hear that.

“I basically sexually assaulted you, so yeah, she thinks that.”

“Huh.”That was a very blunt way of looking at it.Not wrong, but maybe a little harsh in Mickey’s opinion.He and his shrink had also been talking about this and Dr. Mohammed had not been quite so unforgiving.“Dr. Mo cut you some slack.He wasn’t too happy about it, but he said I handled it right, calling in Kev and kicking you out until you got yourself back together.He also said he found it interesting how much different it was this time from last time.We fucked like rabbits last time.You were literally insatiable.This time you just danced around naked.”

“I was never planning on touching you.I just wanted to have that ‘cum for me’ moment.I wanted to see you blissed out and happy.”Ian said, sighing.

“Did I look happy?”Mickey asked, because he sure hadn’t been.

“No.”

So Ian had seen it and carried on anyway.“You just couldn’t make yourself care, or what?”

“It’s hard to explain.Like I thought dancing for you would make you happy...eventually.That’s sort of the thing, it’s like I feel on top of the world and think I can bring everyone else up there with me.I can see when people aren’t happy, but I think if they just let me do...whatever...they will be.Does that make sense?”Ian asked, glancing up at him and then back down at the floor.“I can’t see how selfish it is until I come down, but by then all that’s left is the carnage.”

It did make sense.It made a lot of sense actually.Manic Ian was just regular Ian amplified by a thousand.It was Ian without filters, without boundaries, without care for cause and effect, without an off switch.

“I’m so sorry.”Ian said again.

“I know.”Mickey felt sorry for him.Ian tried so hard.He saw it every day.He saw it in the clockwork pill popping and the rigid structure of his routine.He saw it in the journals and inventories and visits to the psychiatrist.He saw it in the easy way Svetlana and Mandy planned around his episodes and helped him work through them.

“I know how much this illness sucks.I spend you have no idea how much time trying to mitigate the damage I can do.”

Mickey knew.He saw the safety nets and bumper rails that surrounded Ian.He knew Ian willingly submitted to them and had created most of them.

“I need to figure out how to protect you from me, I mean, if you’re still willing.”Ian said.“If you want to walk away, I totally understand though.”

“Like a safe word or something?”Mickey asked, still feeling ambivalent.He didn’t want to stay, but he didn’t want to leave either.He was straddling the fence and that wasn’t a good place for either of them. 

Ian glanced at him again, looking hopeful.“Yeah.Like when Svet or somebody tells me to do my inventory.It sucks, but I do it.It’s the same principle.”

“No should be enough.”Mickey replied.

The hope immediately leached out of Ian.“I know.Fuck, I know.”

No should be enough and under normal circumstances it was.Fuck, that was the problem.Normal, level Ian was what he wanted, but he couldn’t have that version without also accepting the manic and depressed versions too. 

He stared at the redhead.Ian was studying his shoes looking like the world was coming to an end, which maybe it was in a way.It had been easier to imagine a life with Ian before because the mania had been a memory.Now it was real again.He felt like a shitty person holding something Ian couldn’t control against him though. 

If he wasn’t so immobile this entire thing probably wouldn’t have even happened.He would have been able to just get up and walk out.He grimaced.He was making excuses.What Ian had done was shitty.He shouldn’t have done it.He should have stopped.

Fuck.Bipolar was a bitch.He sighed.Since he couldn’t make a decision he asked, “What would the safe word be?”

Ian looked up at him.“Octopus?”

“Why Octopus?”

A blush flowered on Ian’s cheeks.“It’s out of context and I’ll remember it.”

There was a story there, but Mickey didn’t want to know what it was.“Whatever.”

“You’re not leaving?”Ian asked, looking and sounding like a kicked puppy.

Mickey rolled his eyes and asked, “Where am I gonna go?”

“Anywhere you want.Whatever it takes.”Ian answered quickly.

“The Ritz?”Mickey asked.Money spent was no gage of contrition, but maybe he could be down for some five star pampering for a while.

“The penthouse suite at the Waldorf if you want.”Ian promised, smiling a little like maybe they were joking.

“Is it nicer than here?”Mickey asked, doubting it was.Ian had gone out of his way to make sure his house could accommodate him.Everything was set up for him to make things as easy as possible. 

He was settled in and wasn’t thrilled with the idea of having to start over back in Brooklyn or at a hotel somewhere.He would have to set up home health, deal with strangers, do his PT in a public gym, a bunch of shit he didn't want to do.

“No idea.Never been there.”

Mickey eyed the redhead hard.Did he want to do this?Give the ginger idiot hope again?Drag this thing between them out a little longer?

Fuck.

Ian was leveled out and back to his normal self.The next time Ian went manic, if the cycles Svetlana had told him about held true would be in about three months, more mild and by then Mickey would be mobile and able to fend for himself.He sighed.“Okay.Here’s what we’re gonna do.I’m gonna stay, for now, but if you do anything like that again to me, manic or not, and I’ll be outta here like a bullet, you got me?”

“Loud and clear.”

“Look, Ian, I know you can’t help it.I know you do everything you can to control it.I get that, but I’m not a bastion of mental health these days either. Fuck, my physical health sucks too right now.There’s a big part of me that thinks us under the same roof is a terrible idea.”

“I think that too sometimes.”Ian admitted. “I love you.I just want you to be happy and healthy and just...okay, you know?I’m so sorry, for everything.Whatever you need, okay?Anything at all.”

“Could maybe use a hug.”

“I’m so sorry.”

***

Debbie and Fiona came back from court without Frannie. 

The judge had awarded DCFS temporary custody.Ian had previously offered to take her if it came down to it, so the lawyer had made sure the court knew a family placement was possible.A home visit would be scheduled, he just didn’t know when. 

Debbie had to clear out of his house before DCFS came. 

Most of their guests had gone back to Chicago with the Balls.Liam, Carl and Kassidi had school.Ian heard Carl had made it back to the military academy in spite of Kassidi’s protests.Lip needed to go back to school too, but he had called and explained the situation and provided a letter from the doctor.He had to fly out Sunday to make it back by Monday.

His siblings were acting weird, handling him with kid gloves.He still felt a little frayed around the edges so keeping his stress as low as possible was important, but he also hated being treated like he was made of glass.

He learned Frank was not only still alive and semi-lucid, he was making a holy terror of himself at the hospice.It was bad enough Svetlana had authorized payment for the rooms on either side of him as well as hazard pay bonuses for staff willing to work with him.Ian did not know or care how much this was costing him.He was just glad he didn’t have to deal with it.

What had not happened during this hellish day was anyone asking him about being kicked out of his own room.Ian expected someone to say something.Gods knew Lip was drunk enough to have no filter, but it had been days and no one said anything.It was like they all knew he deserved it or something.

Mickey had told him to get his shit and come back to his room.It felt awkward and like he didn’t deserve to be there.

Mickey was fragile, physically and emotionally, and Ian had pushed him way too hard. 

If that were all of it Ian might have been able to let it go, but there was more and the guilt was eating at him more and more the longer he sat there.

Being in the same room with Mickey knowing they were about to share a bed again had him biting his tongue trying to hold back the very strong urge to rat himself out.Mickey probably knew already anyway.He had to at least suspect.

Mickey hobbled out of the bathroom on crutches, dressed in boxers and a tee shirt.His knee was still in a heavy brace.He sat on his side of the bed leaning the crutches against the bedside table in easy reach.Ian was already under the covers on his side. Unable to stand it, he blurted, “I have to tell you something, Mickey.”

“That you went out every night and banged complete fucking strangers?Yeah, I know.”Mickey said with his back still turned.

Ian inhaled a sharp breath.Of course Mickey knew.He let the breath out in a sigh.It was awful.What he had done was awful.Mickey deserved so much better.

“Just tell me you didn't bareback.”Mickey said quietly, shoulders slumped and back still turned.

“I didn’t bareback.”Ian replied.He’d had an incident a few years ago that was thankfully nothing, but it had scared the shit out of him.He had tried taking Truvada when it came out, but it messed with his psych meds so he stopped.Luckily, the incident scared him enough that even out of his head crazy, he still remembered to use condoms.

Mickey slumped further, relieved, disappointed, resigned, done, Ian didn’t know. 

Ian sat up and turned toward Mickey’s back.“I am so sorry.”

“You don’t owe me shit.”Mickey muttered.

Maybe not, they weren’t a couple, but Ian wanted to give the other man everything.He would do whatever it took.“I want...”

“Let’s be real here.You’re gonna fuck around.” Mickey snapped, cutting him off.He pulled himself into bed so he was leaning against the headboard.Without looking at Ian he said,“That’s real.You will.You always have and you always will because even if you don’t when you’re even, you can’t help it when you’re manic.”

“There are so many things people have told me I can’t help or won’t be able to control that I have under fucking control you have no idea.I just need a plan...”

Mickey cut him off again.“I was thinking if I could just get over my shit maybe we could make it work, even when you’re manic and fucking insatiable, but I wasn’t enough for you back when I could do it, so why would I be now?”

“I was completely unmedicated, Mickey.I was also 17, on drugs half the time and delusional the other half.”He had been a total wreck and Mickey had taken the brunt of all of his bullshit.Mickey had endured endless sex, delusions, hallucinations and nights of pure worry when Ian chose not to come home.Ian could only guess what else.It had been horrible and unfair, but, “Things are different now.”

“I was fucking there, remember?”Mickey retorted, and Ian could hear the bitterness.

“It’s been six years.A lot has changed.”Ian said.The fundamentals of his illness were the same, but how he managed it was very different.

Angry blue eyes glared over at him.“How many guys did you fuck this week?”

Ian had known the issue of fidelity was important.Mania didn’t care though, so all he could do was face the fallout and hope somehow Mickey could forgive him.“Mickey...”

“No.How many?Five? 20?How fucking many?”

“Two.”Ian admitted.There had been lots of grinding on the dance floor and a blow job, but he had only fucked two men.

“Bullshit.”Mickey growled.

“There would have been a third, but he couldn’t take me so he sucked me off instead.”Ian admitted.The guy had given it a valiant try, but he had just been too tight.He ended up being the blow job Instead.

Mickey glared at him and Ian just looked back at him.He had told the truth.Mickey would either believe him or he wouldn’t.They could either get past this and try again or they couldn’t.Ian was not in control over that decision.

“That accounts for three out of five nights.”

“Kev and Lip were with me on the first one and I’ve been here the last two.”Ian reminded, then an idea popped into his head. “So, I guess I just need a wingman to keep me out of trouble when I’m manic.I can add it to the protocol.”

“Protocol?” Mickey snorted.

It had been a lot of hard work to get to this point in his life and hearing Mickey mock the effort hurt.“I haven’t been this manic in two years, Mickey.”

“Tell me about the Ferrari.” 

Of course someone told Mickey because they all loved to tell it.Everyone else found it funny, but it had scared the crap out of Ian.It was a graphic reminder of how vulnerable everything he had built was to the whims of his disease.He could fuck the whole thing up in a matter of minutes.

“Tell me.”Mickey demanded.

Fine.“It was a couple years ago.I was manic as fuck, out of control.I was day drinking at a club and met a guy who knew who I was which doesn’t happen very often.When we were leaving he teased me about my car service saying a guy as rich as me should be driving a Ferrari.He joked maybe I just looked like Ian Gallagher.So I had the car service drive us to the Ferrari dealership where I plunked down my credit card and bought a Monza SP2 to prove him wrong.”

“On a credit card?”Mickey asked, incredulous eye brows nearly in his hairline.

“I have a Visa black.There’s no spending limit.”

“Fuck.”Mickey whistled. 

Ian was quick to explain that as unlimited as it sounded he had found a way to check his spending if he went off the rails.“Now if I spend more than $5,000 in a day an alert gets sent to my accountant.She calls me or Svetlana if I don’t answer.If I don’t have a good reason that they believe, she suspends the card until I get myself sorted out.It’s the only credit card I have.”

Mickey nodded, appearing uninterested in the safeguards Ian had installed.“So then what happened?”

“So then I made it six blocks from the dealership before I was pulled over for speeding and arrested for being a belligerent asshole.The car was impounded, my lawyers had to do some fast talking to keep me from being charged with drunk driving and Svetlana had to take the car back and do damage control with the idiot who talked me into buying it in the first place.”

“She paid him off.”Mickey said.It was a statement, not a question.

Ian nodded. “And made him sign a non-disclosure agreement.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah. So I owned a Ferrari for about 15 minutes and less than a mile.”It was not one of his better moments.Maybe years from now he would find it funny like everyone else did, but right now it shamed him. 

“Five grand a day is still a fuck ton of money.”Mickey said, changing the subject.

“No doubt.”Ian agreed, but at the same time, it also wasn’t that much.It could be a bar tab for a wrap party for a new game or couple suits or a piece of art.It was plane tickets or medical bills or a donation to charity.“It’s rare for me to spend even close to that much though and I always call Donna to tell her what I bought or am about to buy so she doesn’t suspend me.That’s how I control manic spending.I just need to find a way to control manic hyper sexuality.”

Mickey sighed.

“I didn’t do more than dance when Kev and Lip went out with me so maybe a wingman will do it.That’s easy enough to arrange.”Ian repeated his idea from earlier.He could just pay someone to keep him out of trouble so he wouldn’t have to subject his friends to the uncomfortable weirdness of him being an oversexed, super flirty slut. 

“Not even a blow job in the john?”Mickey asked.

“Nope.Never made it to the bathroom without one of them tailing me.”He had been annoyed at the time, but looking back he was nothing but grateful.

“So you would have if they hadn’t been there.”

“Probably.”Ian had to admit.There was no point lying about it.Mickey knew the truth.The real point was, with them there he had kept his dick to himself.It was just another piece of armor to put on to protect the the things he most valued.“Mickey, I have safeguards set up for damn near everything in my life.I just missed one because it really didn't matter until now.Hopefully, the next time I go off the rails you’ll be off the crutches so you can go with...”

“Fuck no.Been there, done that.I won’t do it again.”Mickey cut him off.The vehemence with which he said it made Ian cringe.

Okay, so Mickey playing wingman had been a bad suggestion.He went back to his original plan.“So I hire a guy...”

“I’m tired.”Mickey cut him off, sliding down in the bed so Ian couldn’t see him over the pillow wall anymore.

Mickey had every reason to want to protect himself.Ian understood, but he refused to accept never being together was the only way to do it.“We just need...”

“There is no we.”Mickey snapped.

No, there wasn’t right now, but from the first time they fucked there had been a connection between them.That connection had survived so much already.If Mickey had to cut it, then Ian would respect that, but until that happened, Ian was not going to give up on them.He loved Mickey.It wasn’t perfect or painless, but it was deep and real.“Please don’t say that.I know there isn’t right now, but...”

“I’m fucking tired, man.”Mickey cut him off again.There was a pause and then in a softer tone he said, “Let’s just sleep, okay?I’m all talked out for tonight.”

As much has he wanted to just finish this, Mickey was asking him to back off so he would.“Okay, Mickey.Good night.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One last thing I’d like to say about the relationship between Mickey and Ian is that nothing resolves quickly or easily, just like in real life. Coming to terms can be very hard and for every step forward, there are steps back. It’s like pushing a big ball of shit uphill. It stinks, it’s heavy, it’s hard. It might get away from you sometimes and bowl you down forcing you to start over, but once it’s finally pushed to the top and starts rolling down hill the air freshens, the weight lightens and the pain of getting it up the hill starts to fade.
> 
> Because there is so much to acknowledge, talk about, work through and resolve between these two, this story is currently 100 chapters and counting. I hope you’re willing to ride it out with me, but if it’s too much or just doesn’t fit with your vision of these two, I totally understand. This is some heavy shit. All of this to say, I appreciate all of the comments and feedback this story has received. You’ve given me a lot of encouragement and also a lot to think about. Thank you!


	44. Mulling Mickey

Mickey laid awake long after Ian’s meds knocked him out.

Every practical, survivalist bone in his body told him he needed to just cut his losses and run, but his heart was resolutely determined to cling to Ian like a burr clings to a dog fur.It was like the stubborn fucker wanted to be broken again.

That was the problem.For Mickey, Ian was an addiction worse than heroin.He was pretty sure it was going to kill him but he could not stop hoping somehow it would be okay.Somehow they would find a way through Ian’s bipolar and his PTSD and make a happy life together.It was asinine to hope so hard for something so impossible, but he did.

Hope fucking sucked.

He thought about calling Dr. Mohammed again, but ultimately decided it could wait for their appointment tomorrow.

Ian had suggested Mickey could be his wingman when he was manic, but Mickey had already tried that and hated every single second of it.He couldn’t watch Ian flirt with the men who slobbered all over him.He couldn’t watch as Ian left him behind to go home with someone else.Just thinking about how it had been when Ian was still working in the clubs had his hands balled into fists.

The cheating was a slap in the face, but it was the disease that hit him.It was the fucking bipolar and Mickey wanted to tear that shit out of Ian and beat it to death with his bare hands.If only he could.

He remembered the porno Ian had done way back when.He remembered the drugs Ian allowed strangers to give him not knowing or caring what they were.He remembered Ian stumbling out of the club after his shift ended draped over the shoulders of a different man each night.Ian just coasted along as if nothing was wrong with any of it, oblivious to risks he was taking.

Mickey was once again struck by Ian’s vulnerability and the anger drained away.

Pretending Ian was just coasting now was bullshit.Ian was doing everything Dr. Mohammed said he could do to stay as level as possible.He exercised, ate right, made sure he slept enough, took his meds on schedule, did not do drugs and rarely drank.He had created as many bumper guards around himself as he could.There was nothing more Ian could realistically do about his disorder.

Holding the uncontrollable against him was like blaming clouds for raining. Mickey sighed.

Helping the ginger idiot do what he could to keep himself on track and watching over him when he was off the rails, was it too high a price to be with the man he could not banish from his thoughts?

Mickey pulled himself up in bed saying, “Mildred, turn the fire on for me.”

The fire at the foot of the bed leapt to life bathing the room with a warm sepia glow.

Mickey looked over the pillow wall at Ian.Ian was curled up with his back to him.

He watched the slow, steady movement of Ian’s breathing.

He probably shouldn’t be judging Ian so harshly when he wasn’t exactly a prize catch himself.In fact, anyone else, if they knew half the shit Ian knew about him, would never get with him in the first place.With all his hang ups and sex issues right now, literally no one else on earth would ever work this hard to be with him.

Mickey removed a couple pillows and scooted over toward Ian’s side of the bed.He reached out a hand and put it on Ian’s shoulder over a tattoo of a blue koi, the head pointing upwards.Japanese tattoos had a lot of meanings and Mickey told himself he would look up the tattoo later.

Mickey scooted closer.

He pressed a kiss between Ian’s shoulder blades and let his forehead rest against Ian’s back breathing in his scent, his normal, sane scent, and relaxed in the rhythmic rise and fall of Ian’s respiration.

God, he craved this man. 

As ambivalent as he felt about it, there was no denying it, no wishing it away.So many times he had thought if he could just have this, he would give anything for it.

He snaked an arm around Ian’s torso and pulled their bodies in closer.

The redhead never stirred.

Jesus fucking Christ, Mickey thought, giving in to the urge to full body spoon the man he had (very reluctantly) loved since the first time they were together.

He had been a very confused, very scared kid back in those days. 

His first sexual encounter was when his dad bought him a hooker for his 13th birthday.

From there he did as expected and got laid as often as he could convince a girl to let him bang her.He talked about those girls with his brothers and cousins since it was a near constant topic of conversation, but he really didn't understand what the big deal was. To hear them tell it sex was this mind blowing, life altering thing, but it wasn’t that way for him.It was better than jerking off, but then he had to deal with feelings and other shit he didn’t like. It made him think maybe he was defective or something.

Then he stumbled upon gay porn and _knew_ he was defective.Watching men bang was a huge turn on and what had upset him the most about this discovery was the turn on was thinking about _getting_ banged.What did that feel like, because those guys looked like they were in fucking heaven.That new curiosity scared the living shit out of him.

He spent the better part of a year trying to beat it out of his head.He beat up fags because they were fucking sick.He wasn’t sick.He was a fucking Milkovich.

He found himself a couple girls who would fuck him whenever he came around.Neither of them were hot, but both were willing and available. He watched a ton of straight porn trying to perfect his technique because maybe if he was better at it he would like it more.

Over time his porn habit evolved into three-ways with two guys and a girl.Somehow he could justify that to himself.The curiosity didn’t go away though.He debated letting one of the chicks he was fucking put her finger in his ass like she had tried twice.

He resisted the urge though, first, because he wasn’t into faggy shit and second, because he was afraid she would tell someone.If it ever got back to his dad he would be a dead man.

The first time he gave in and put his own finger in his ass was weird.It was a little uncomfortable and a total nothing burger.The second time he found his prostate and it was the best orgasm of his life up to that point. 

He hated himself for it. 

He hated himself every single time he did it.He doubled down shaming the fags at school and getting his cousins drunk so they could go to Boys Town and beat up the gays heading home from the clubs.

None of this made him feel better but it seemed to please his dad which was reason enough to keep going.It was a way to keep from being beaten down himself.

Then came the night they robbed the home of a gay couple dumb enough to think they could flip a house in a Southside neighborhood.

Mickey was rummaging through the bedroom drawers looking for cash and jewelry when he stumbled upon their toy box.In it, among a lot of used toys, was a dildo still in the packaging. 

On impulse, Mickey stole it and hid it under a loose floorboard beneath his bed.He left it there for weeks as he told himself over and over again to get rid of the thing or give it to Mandy as a birthday gift or shove it down the throat of the next faggot they beat up in Boys Town.

Of course, he ended up keeping it.

The day he first used it, he was home alone.It was a rare opportunity which was probably why he took the risk.It hurt like a son of a bitch because unlike vagina’s assholes are not self lubricating.He couldn’t get it in very far and it wasn’t anything like he imagined.He almost threw the dildo away, but he didn’t.He kept it.He also stole some KY from the Kash and Grab.

The next time he used it he got it right and the orgasm was way more intense than with just a finger.It turned into a late night super secret masturbation routine. 

At first he was hyper ashamed of himself.Not understanding the hygiene requirements to avoid some serious mess had compounded the shame, but when he got it right, it was fucking amazing.

As time went on he decided he just liked what he liked.He liked ass play.So fucking what?It didn’t make him gay.

He had been able to live with that illusion for a about a year until the day Ian fucking Gallagher woke him up with a crowbar in his back. 

He won the fight like he had most physical altercations they had.During the course of it though, Ian got hard.So did Mickey.He would never forget the moment their eyes met and both of them realized what the other wanted.

When they were naked, Mickey had a moment of what the fuck am I doing panic because what he was about to do was gay gay gay gay and Ian’s dick was way bigger than the dildo.

Ian had stood there looking just as panicked which made sense because Mickey was well known for gay bashing at their school.

So they both stared at each other for a second, sizing each other up before Mickey decided, fuck it.He wanted this.Gallagher knew he would kill him if he ever breathed a word.

He grabbed the KY from the drawer and tossed it at Gallagher who had fumbled with it like a hot rock.Then he crawled up on the bed, ass in the air waiting for Ian to get on him.

It was so different with a real dick.Real flesh, even hard as a rock, was more pliant than silicone.The stretch to accept Ian’s girth was a pleasure pain Mickey was immediately addicted to.The heat, the impossible fullness, the relentless rhythm as Ian pounded deeper and deeper into his body until Ian’s balls were slapping his ass with each thrust was absolutely mind blowing.

From that moment onward, Mickey never looked at Ian or sex the same way again.

He tried as hard as he could to pretend nothing had changed and that he was no different than he had been before he and Ian fucked, but the axis of his world had tilted.

The dildo no longer satisfied.Sex with women bored him.

He didn’t have eyes for other men, though he did catch himself checking out what other men were packing.Ian was fucking beautiful to him, way more attractive than anyone else he’d ever been with.

He had barely noticed Ian other than as his sister’s boyfriend before that day.Banging him behind her back was all kinds of fucked up, but he didn’t care.Her relationship with Ian wasexcellent cover for this new addiction of his.

That addiction had changed his life in ways he never could have imagined.

Here he was, eight years later, and his addiction was just as merciless as it had always been. He was so close to everything he wanted and yet further from it than ever. It was so hard, so, so hard.

He snuggled in tighter against Ian’s back safe in the knowledge Ian could sleep through the apocalypse and wouldn’t wake up if Mickey spooned him for a while.


	45. Frannie

“What are you doing back so soon?”Mickey asked as Ian bounded up the stairs into the kitchen 20 minutes after he left.

Mickey had barely gotten the biscuit dough started and he had them timed to come out right before Ian got back.Ian was way early.

“Had to cut it short.”Ian said, panting a little.“Sprinted most of the way back to make up for it.”

“Why?”

“Frannie.” Ian said.“Lawyer called.DCFS is coming today for the home visit, probably soon.”

“Wait, what?” Mickey asked.This had been a possibility yesterday, not a certainty.In the barrage of things going on, he had totally forgotten about the kid.Apparently he should not have slept through dinner.

“I forgot to tell you.”

“Ah, yeah.”Mickey retorted, pissed to be finding out at the last second.

“Can we talk about it in a minute?” Ian asked, already on his phone.“I gotta find somewhere else for Debbie to stay.”

“Morning.”Fiona said as she trotted down the stairs into the kitchen.

“DCFS is coming today, probably this morning.”Mickey announced, since this was the news of the morning and Ian was too focused on his phone to notice her.

“Are you serious?Jesus.” Fiona asked, clearly caught by surprise. “That’s faster than I thought.”

“Is it okay if I put Debbie up at the Mark?It’s pretty close to here.”Ian asked not looking up. 

“Where ever is fine.She just can’t be here when DCFS comes.”Fiona replied, grabbing a cup of coffee and then heading back to the stairs.“I’m gonna wake her up and get her started packing.”

“So, Frannie’s coming here?For how long?”Mickey asked as Ian completed his reservation on his phone.

“A year, probably less.”Ian replied, still distracted by his phone. “Gotta get a car here pronto.”

“A year?”Mickey repeated.He knew when DCFS removed a kid it could take a while for the parents to get the kid back, but neither he nor any of his siblings had ever been removed for that long.Usually it was just a week to a month before one of his uncles picked them up.

Oh.

“Yeah.”Ian nodded.He finally looked up and met Mickey’s gaze.“The judge threw the book at her.Debbie has to go to a bunch of counseling and parenting classes to prove she’s a good mom before they’ll give Frannie back. She’s got a year to do it.”

“Here?In New York?”Mickey asked, because if Frannie was here, surely Debbie would want to be close by. 

“Or Chicago.It’s up to her.”Ian shrugged. “Maybe this is the kick in the ass she needs to make some better decisions about her life.”

“But Frannie stays here?”Mickey clarified because a year was a long damn time and Ian was in no shape to take care of a kid.

“Yeah.” Ian agreed. “If DCFS likes us.”

Us?

***

For the next twenty minutes the house was in chaos as Fiona and Debbie frantically tried to get Debbie’s things packed up and her room turned into Frannie’s room. 

Mickey finished making breakfast because it was all he could think to do.He should not have.Standing so long left him in a lot of pain. 

He was almost to a place where he could sit down, but for one detail.Lip had not come through the kitchen like everyone else had.He was probably passed out drunk somewhere in the house.

He asked Mildred to locate the blonde and was not surprised to find he was sleeping on a couch on the first floor.Mickey took the elevator down and limped on crutches over to the couch.He used one of the crutches to nudge Lip awake.

The moment the blonde woke up enough to glare at him, Mickey said, “DCFS is coming.You smell like a fucking distillery.Go take a shower and brush your teeth.”

Lip rubbed at bloodshot eyes and asked, “For Frannie?”

“Who else?”

“That was fast.”Lip said getting up and stretching, his back popping loudly.It made Mickey make a mental note never to sleep on these couches.

“Go clean up.”Mickey made a shooing gesture toward the stairs.

No sooner had Lip disappeared than the elevator opened and Debbie stepped out dragging a large suitcase with a bag over her shoulder.“Mickey?”

“Hey, Debs.”They had not seen each other much since his surgery.He had been too sick and too tired to really come out of his room much so he had largely missed her.Even this morning she had blitzed through the kitchen to grab a biscuit without a word to him.Seeing her now, she looked like shit, probably from all the crying she was doing. 

Debbie dropped the luggage and threw her arms around him.“Thank you!”

At first Mickey wasn’t sure what he was being thanked for, but then it dawned on him.Everyone thought he and Ian were back together.Ian’s agreement to take Frannie made it seem like he had agreed to it too.Unwilling to disappoint her, he just hugged her back as best as the crutches allowed and tried to be reassuring.“Oh.Right.It’s cool.”

“I just can’t believe it.I didn’t know.I had no idea how bad...”She pulled back from him, sniffling.“I mean, I’m a good mom.”

“Just prove it to your case worker and that asshole judge.”Mickey replied, because no one else’s opinion mattered.She had to do what she could to make those people think she was a responsible young adult capable to caring for her child.

Looking every inch a teenage girl, she wiped at her eyes and started rambling. “Frannie really likes strawberries.Those are her favorite.And cheese pizza.And chicken nuggets.If it’s green she won’t eat but she likes carrots and if you use spaghetti quash for noddles she can’t tell...”

“We’ll make sure she eats her veggies.”Mickey cut her off, because they didn’t have time for this.Debbie needed to get her ass in the car and away from the house ASAP.Figuring out what Frannie liked to eat was something they could do over the phone later.

“This is such bullshit!”Debbie shouted, switching gears in an instant.She did this, Mickey remembered, moving from one extreme to another in the blink of an eye.It was like Ian’s mood swings, but at lightening speed.Not for the first time, he wondered if she was also bipolar.

She turned a circle like she was looking for something to punch.“It’s so unfair!”

Mickey took a step back.He did not want to be hit.“Yeah, but it’s the hand you were dealt so suck it up, Gallagher.Do what they tell you to do so you can get her back.”

She started crying again.Mickey guessed she would be doing a lot of that for the foreseeable future.He was not good with feelings, especially not with tears so he stuck with things he had a better chance making sense of.“What are the provisions for visitation?”

“I don’t know yet.”Debbie whined between sniffles, as if someone owed her answers and was withholding them.

“As soon as you do, Ian will make sure you see the little rug rat as much as possible, okay?”Mickey attempted to be reassuring.Debbie would have to stay in New York for this to work.

She started pacing, “I cannot believe I’m leaving my daughter with _you_.Like you’re a better parent than me.”

That stung, but it was true.He had been absent for most of Yevgeny’s life.He had gotten physical with his son recently, a mistake, but still unforgivable.He was a pretty shitty father but that just meant there was a lot of room for improvement.He was at least trying to work on it which was a lot more than he could say for any of the adults who had raised him.“Hey, neither of us is winning parent of the year here, but it’s still better than a fucking foster home.”

She looked at him, a weird light in her brown eyes and Mickey could not hold her gaze.His gaze fell to the floor.No one in their right mind should be entrusting him with a kid.

“Debbie, what the hell are you doing?”Fiona barked as she stepped out the elevator with a second suitcase.“You can’t be here.Get in the car!Now!”

As Debbie grabbed her bags and headed for the door, she paused.“Hey, Mickey?”

“Yeah?” 

“You’re not a bad dad.”She said.

“You’re not a bad mom.”Mickey responded.She wasn’t.She was just a young, stubborn kid who made a mistake.She was about to make another one if the case worker saw she was still in the house.He made a shooing gesture at her.“Just get the fuck out of here already.”

“Thanks!”

***

For the last 45 minutes Mickey watched on the TV over the bar as Ian and the case worker, Michelle, toured around Ian’s brownstone being closely followed by Scraggles. 

His knee hurt like hell, his hip was complaining and he wanted to go back to bed, but it had to wait.

“Your home is beautiful.”Michelle said as they finally made it back to the first floor.

“Thanks.”Ian smiled, doing his best Prince Charming routine.It made Mickey want to vomit.

Ian gestured toward one of the royal blue sofas and he sat beside Michelle like they were old friends, all casual confidence and easy hospitality. The dog hopped up and sat in Ian’s lap as if he knew he needed to be on his best behavior.Mickey could not join them.He had to sit at the bar because the couch was too low for him to get up again if he sat down.

“You need to get locks for the bars and the chemical closet so the child cannot get in there accidentally.”

“They’re on the list.”Ian smiled as he tapped the iPad he had been carrying around making notes of the few things the case worker wanted him to fix.

“Well, based on what you’ve shown me, I believe it is safe to issue a waiver for the childcare license for now and release the child into your custody on a temporary basis provided you complete the necessary paperwork.”She told Ian and then looked over at Mickey with a nod.

It pissed Mickey off.If leaving him in some rat infested shit hole when he was that age with a morbidly obese woman who smelled like cat piss and cigarettes was good enough as a ‘placement’ Ian’s fucking mansion sure as fuck was.

Ian didn’t miss a beat, smiling like he had no clue the responsibility he was talking on.“Of course.”

“Mr. Milkovich, are you a full time resident of this home?”The case worker asked.

How the fuck was he supposed to answer that?For at least the next month he was.Ian side eyed him, so Mickey said, “Ah, yeah.”

She noticed his hesitation and pounced on it saying, “Taking on a child is a huge commitment.”

Ian was glaring at him from behind her.Mickey sighed.He had been in the system.He didn’t want that cute little girl to end up in the same sort of places he had so he swallowed his misgivings and nodded. “I know.I have a six year old son.”

She made a note.“He stays here?”

“He lives with my ex-wife, but he’s here a lot.It’s amicable.”Mickey replied. 

“Does anyone else live in the home?”Michelle asked.

Ian jumped back in saying, “No.My siblings have been staying with us for the holidays and are still here because our dad is in a hospice over on York Avenue.The doctors don’t think he’ll last much longer.”

Mickey almost rolled his eyes as Michelle’s posture immediately changed and she leaned forward like she wanted to hug the ginger idiot or something.“I’m very sorry to hear that.”

Then she caught herself and covered by pretending she really wanted to pet the dog.After a brief ear scratch she cleared her throat and when she spoke again she was all business.“We will need shot records for Scraggles here and background checks on everyone over the age of 18 in the home.”

“That’s just the two of us.”Ian said.“Will getting the background checks delay Frannie coming home?”

Michelle frowned.“Was everyone staying in the home present when the child got sick?”

“Yeah, but Dr. Chakilam was taking care of basically the whole house.Me and Kassidi, my younger brother Carl’s girlfriend, were the only people here who didn’t get sick. They’re back in Chicago now.”Ian told her. 

“I am aware the entire house had the flu.Most of you were treated appropriately.The child was not.”Michelle said flipping though her folder for a moment.Then she turned to Mickey and asked, “How were you treated for the flu?”

“Ian was basically my nursemaid.I came down with it the day after knee surgery.”Mickey said, because he didn’t want to talk about treatment since it highlighted how differently he and Frannie were cared for.

“How were you treated?” Michelle asked again.Ian made a face at him.

Fine.He shrugged.“The usual stuff like Tamiflu, IV fluid, Phenergan, Imodium, pain meds for my knee.I don’t know what else.”

“The child received none of that.”Michelle said, frowning down at her file.She flipped a page and then looked up at Ian, then at Mickey and then back to Ian. “But I’m glad to see you at least believe in actual medicine.”

“If Frannie gets sick in our care we will definitely take her to a doctor.No question.”Ian agreed easily.

Michelle closed her file and started rummaging through her bag.“The mother and other maternal relatives feel you are the best option for the child’s care at this time and the court agreed. This is temporary though.Direct placement will go into effect when your background checks are completed.I will fast track the application but it will likely be a couple of weeks.Now, do either of you have any questions?”

“Nope.”Ian answered.

“Until then, this is just an extended sleep over, got it?” 

“Understood.”Ian agreed.

“It typically takes about a year for a case to make it through the courts.If the mother does all the things the court orders her to do, she will regain custody.It could be as fast as a few months, but if she’s non compliant for 15 out of 22 months, the child will become a ward of the state and available for adoption.If that happens we look to family first.”Michelle’s eyes roamed around the room like she thought Frannie was better off here than with her mother already. 

“You will have to commit to a visitation schedule with the mother.Those visits will be limited and supervised by DCFS to start with.As we go, if the mother is compliant, they may become more frequent and no longer need to be supervised.However, until such time, it is a violation of your agreement to allow the mother unauthorized access to the child.”

“Understood, but can they FaceTime, right?”Ian asked.

“Not until after at least the first supervised visit.If you fail to maintain the safety of this child she will be removed from your care.” 

“Got it.”Mickey snapped, the tension of the moment getting to him.

Michelle looked up at him and Ian glared daggers at him, but the moment passed.Michelle drew a packet of forms out of her bag.“Then let’s go through the paperwork, shall we?”

She started with a small fingerprint machine she said they used for ‘special cases’ which Mickey took to mean the rich and powerful who couldn’t be inconvenienced by going to the PD or somewhere else to get this done.It added to his annoyance. 

After letting her fingerprint him, he got to work committing his life history to paper while growing more resentful by the second.

After what felt like a very long time Mickey was finally done signing his life away.With his record expunged he did not have to disclose his incarceration.Having spent his time in prison getting his GED and going to college filled in that time pretty well on paper, but it felt like a lie.Glossing over the worst years of his life like they never existed left him feeling bitter and more angry than he could express. 

He added his paper full of truthful lies to Ian’s.Michelle collected them and put them in her bag.She got up and started for the door with Ian hot on her heels.Mickey was slower, but he followed them to the door.

“The child will be dropped off this afternoon.It will take time to finalize, but I’m glad the child will be with family in such a lovely home.”She said as she came over and shook Mickey’s hand.

“So are we.”Ian agreed, walking her out onto the stoop where he also shook her hand.

“Very well.Good day, gentlemen.”And that was it.

***

“I need to call my sisters and then walk the dog.”Ian said the moment the door closed behind the case worker.He knew they were nervously waiting to hear from him.

“Yeah.”Mickey muttered.

“Thanks, Mickey. I know you didn’t sign up for this, but really, thanks, man.”Ian clasped Mickey’s shoulder.He wanted to kiss him, but Mickey was giving off strong don’t mess with me vibes.

“Where would they go next if this doesn’t work out?”Mickey asked, stumping his way over to the bar where he poured himself a beer and started drinking it.

“Dunno.I guess she’d end up in a foster home until they dug up another relative.”Ian replied.He wanted to give Mickey shit about drinking before noon, but looking at him, doing so seemed like a great way to start a fight. 

“You have any other relatives?”Mickey asked.

“Yeah, but no one I’d trust Frannie with.”He had his bio dad and his uncle, but he could not imagine leaving Frannie in either family.His bio dad was a spineless ass hat, so was one of his uncles. The other was a grifter who had tried to sell their house out from under them.He didn’t really know any of Monica’s family.He glanced at Mickey.He didn’t look as unhappy with that thought as Ian wanted him to.To clarify he said, “Like you would let Yev end up with any of your family other than Mandy.”

“This is a fucking _year_ , Ian.A lot can happen in a year.”Mickey finally said what Ian had sort of expected him to say.A year was a long time when you were in front of it and no time at all after it passed.

“But it might not be a year.It could be shorter.Anyway, I helped raise my siblings.It’ll be easier now since money isn’t an issue.I’ll get her set up in a daycare.If it’s too hard, I’ll get a nanny, but I can handle it.”It would be a major life change, but this was what family was for.

Mickey clearly didn’t like this answer and glared at him.“What about...”

“My bipolar? Your record? Us?”Ian snapped, because he knew what the objections were.None of them mattered.This was family.He had to do what he could for his niece and Mickey was going to have to pull his head out of his ass. “The court already knows about your expunged record and my mental illness.They don’t have a problem, why should we?”

“You already have a dog you pretty much ignore.Now you’re gonna have a kid to raise.”

“I do not ignore Scraggles.I’m the one who walks him, feeds him and makes sure there’s water in his bowl.”He took care of his damn dog.

“Who did that last week?”Mickey asked, with an arched eyebrow.

Ian wished he could say he had, but he couldn’t.He assumed another Gallagher had taken over that responsibility for him while he was incapable of doing it himself.Suddenly acutely aware of the responsibility he had taken on and how much greater it was than just a dog, he said the only thing he could think of that would protect Frannie if he needed help. “I’ll get a nanny.” 

“Ian...”

“She’s my niece.What do you want me to do?Give her to fucking strangers?”Ian nearly shouted.He had no choice here.Frannie was coming to live with them and he was going to find a way to make it safe for her.There was no other option.

“Nah, man.No.Just...”Mickey trailed off and his eyes lost their fire.In a softer voice he said, “I’m still going home when I get cleared for stairs.What are you gonna tell the courts then?”

Seriously?Now?Mickey had to do this now?“Mickey...”

“Just start planning for that, okay?I...I’m not staying.” 

Ian slumped down in a barstool and ran a hand through his hair.He did not want to hear any of this.Mickey had said it before, but he wanted Mickey to change his mind and stay.He needed Mickey to change his mind and stay.“So I acquire a kid and lose you all in the same day?”

Mickey eyed him and then poured himself another beer.He took a long pull from it, belched and said, “I am not gonna be guilted into playing house with your niece, man.”

“Wow.” Ian exclaimed.It had never once crossed his mind taking in Frannie would force Mickey to stay.Thinking about it now after Mickey mentioned it, it was a potential side benefit, but it had never been the point.“So, what?You think I’m taking Frannie to force you to stay with me?You actually think I’d do that?”

“No.Maybe.I dunno.”Mickey faltered.He finished his beer and then sighed.“I’m just saying, I didn’t sign up for this.”

“Great.That’s just fucking great.”Ian harrumphed.Mickey had just filled out all the same paperwork Ian had.Why would he do that if he planned to fuck off the second he could leave?Ian had just assumed Mickey would be there, like he had been.Like he wanted him to be.“I do not need all this stress.Fuck.”

The fire immediately reignited in Mickey’s blue eyes.He pointed a finger at Ian and growled, “Don’t you dare put that on me.”

“I’m not putting anything on you.I’m just saying, this is a lot of fucking stress.”He had not meant it was Mickey’s fault.He was just coming off the worst manic cycle he’d had in two years.Avoiding stress was important to keeping even.This was not helping. 

“You’re the man with a plan for everything so figure it the fuck out.”Mickey said as he came around from behind the bar and started toward the elevator. 

“You’re an asshole.”Ian snapped as Mickey hit the call button.He hated it when Mickey got like this.

Without a word, Mickey gave him the finger over his shoulder and then the elevator door opened and he disappeared inside leaving Ian alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I keep ratcheting up the tension, I know. I promise there is a method to the madness.
> 
> Anyway, two more days to go at my current job and then hello brand new hospital 5/4. Super excited! Not so excited my governor decided to “open” the state, but it is what it is. Stay safe out there!


	46. Fiona, Take the Wheel

After a long moment staring at the bar Ian called Fiona.

“Do you get to keep her?”She asked before he even had a chance to say hello.

“Yeah.”

She sighed and the relief in her voice was almost palpable.“That’s great.That’s really great.”

“Yeah.”This was great for Frannie and Debbie but not so great for him.

Fiona heard it.“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.It’s just a pretty big commitment, you know?”Ian said, the gravity of what he had agreed to finally hitting him.He was essentially going to be a single parent for about a year.

“Trust me, I know.”She chuckled.

What had he been thinking?Was he still manic?Why had he agreed to this?Mickey was right, this was insane.“I’m a little scared actually.”

“That’s normal.Kids are scary, but at least you have options now, right?I mean, it’s not like how it was back in Chicago.You can get help and Mickey will be there.”She said, nonchalant in her assurances as if it was a no brainer Ian could and would handle it.

“I hope.”Ian muttered.He was pretty sure Mickey meant it when he said he was leaving. 

An edge crept into her voice.“He’s not real thrilled about this is he?”

“Not really, no.”Ian admitted, because why would he be?Mickey had his own life.He had his own issues and his own kid.Ian had not asked him if he would be willing to help with Frannie.

“Asshole...”

“Don’t you call him that.”Ian snapped, cutting her off.“Mickey didn’t sign up for this.He’s rehabbing both legs, getting over the flu, freaking out about his job because he’s been gone so long, worrying about my crazy ass and now I’ve dropped another kid in his lap.I’d say he has pretty good reason to be upset right now.”

“If he fucks this up though, I will kill him.”Fiona said, and Ian was sure she meant it in the moment and equally sure it was an empty threat.She would forget about Mickey the second he was out of sight.She frequently did that were Ian was concerned.Out of sight, out of mind.

It pissed him off and also got him thinking.“You know, it’s funny how not so long ago I was a mess who couldn’t be trusted watching the kids for a _day_ , and now you guys are just fine saddling me with one of those kids for a _year_.”

“I made an error in judgement.What can I say?”She replied, in no way sorry.“But Ian, you’ve got this.It’ll all work out.You’ll see.”

The reason Frannie was coming to live with him was because Debbie lived with Fiona.If Debbie didn't live with Fiona, then Frannie could stay with her.“Or you could make Debbie move out of your house so you could...”

“I raised five kids.I am not raising another one.I told Debbie that.I told all of you that.”Fiona put her foot down and Ian could tell she meant it, not in the out of sight, out of mind sort of way, but in an absolute, hell no, sort of way.Maybe if it was between her and a foster home she would step in and take Frannie, but she would not do it voluntarily.She also had a point.She had been raising her siblings since she was nine. She also still had Liam. She had done her part. Fiona continued, “Make it easy on yourself.Get her enrolled in a day care.Or hire a nanny.It’s just a year, maybe less.”

Best case scenario, Debbie would do an awesome job at the parenting classes and counseling.She would make all her scheduled appointments and the judge would be so happy he would give her back custody at the next hearing in a couple months.“What’s Debbie saying?What does she want to do, like is she going to move to New York or try to travel back and forth?”

“I don’t know.I keep trying to talk to her about it, but you know how she gets.”

Ian did know how Debbie got.She would spin from tears to rage and back again for several days before she finally got busy figuring out what to do.Then she would be a stubborn, unreasonable mule about whatever decision she made.“She needs to get over it and figure out what she wants to do.I’ll help with whatever, but she has to tell me what she needs.”

“Give her a couple days.This is really hard for her.”Fiona said, which just confirmed Ian’s opinion about how his little sister was handling herself.Then in a quieter tone, Fiona said,“But Ian?Don’t make it too easy on her when you do talk to her.”

“What?”Ian asked.Nothing about this was easy for anyone involved.

“Look, I cannot tell you how many times she has tried to pawn Frannie off on me.If you do too good at this dad thing I worry she won’t do the work to get her back.She’ll just play dress up and take selfies while you do all the heavy lifting. ”

“I didn’t think of that.”Ian said, but as he thought about it now, he could see how that could happen.Debbie had gotten pregnant in a childish attempt to trap a boy and start a new life with him.When that didn't work the way she wanted it to, she had stubbornly insisted she would raise her daughter alone, even as she tried everything she could to get the father to take her back. 

He didn’t. 

She refused to get an abortion and then she was a 15 year old with an infant. Debbie had forced herself to grow up fast.She had a job as a welder, but she still lived at home because she couldn’t afford to move out.She was only 19 and had no life outside of her work and kid. She had to be jealous of her friends who were still in high school without a care in the world.

Ian could just imagine what she would think once she got over the loss and settled into a life with adequate sleep, no responsibility and the ability to see her friends and her kid when she felt like it.That would be tempting to a girl who felt cheated out of her childhood (even if she did it to herself).

“I know.That’s why I told you.” 

Fuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New job starts Monday. Super excited. Last day at my old job was yesterday. They threw me a potluck which was awesome because NO ONE potlucks like nurses potluck. It was fantastic. I’m feeling a little nostalgic today.
> 
> As to the Frannie situation, in the show, there is a constant build up of problems until it all crumbles. It’s how every season works so, to me, what I’m doing is sort of in keeping with that aspect of the source material. It hasn’t come to a head yet, but it will. This thing is a pimple and we’re in the uncomfortable place where it’s painful, but still too deep to pop. :)
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	47. Chapter 47

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one is pretty long. Hope you enjoy.

“Hello, Mickey.”Dr. Mohammed said when Mickey called him at the appointed time.

“Hey.”

“How are you today?”

“Shitty.”

Without missing a beat, Dr. Mohammed asked, “Why are you shitty?”

“Well, let’s see: I fucking hurt.A lot.I’m so tired I can barely get out of bed.Ian is an asshole.”He paused, because the last bit was just so unreal.“And this morning I found out we’re getting a kid.”

“Is Ian still manic?”Dr. Mohammed asked.

“No.Thank Christ.”

“Have you talked?”What the head shrinker meant was clear in his tone.

Dr. Mohammed had wanted him to be upfront with Ian about how his behavior effected him.“Yeah.”

“What did he say?”

“He admitted he fucked around, but he’s going to hire a wingman and we have a safe word, so it’s whatever.”Mickey replied. 

“I see.”

With the hyper sexuality thing as sorted out as it was likely to get until the next time Ian went manic, Mickey went back to the current crisis.“And now we have a kid, so, there’s that.”

“How did this come to pass?”

“When we all had the flu, Ian’s sister decided to ignore the doctor and treat herself and her four year old with essential oils or some shit.The kid nearly died.The fucking doctor called DCFS who took Frannie away and now Ian agreed to foster her for a fucking year.”

“Healthcare providers are mandatory reporters.”Dr. Mohammed said, placid as ever.

“So what?The point is Frannie’s fine, her mom knows she fucked up and I do _not_ understand why this has to be my fucking problem.”Mickey groused.It really shouldn’t be his problem.Frannie was better off with her mother than a bipolar nut job and a sociopathic ex-con.

“How exactly is it your problem, Mickey?”

“I guess it isn’t.”Mickey shrugged, because it really wasn’t his problem.Ian was trying to make it his problem, by volunteering him without asking.

“No, it’s Ian’s problem.It is only your problem if you choose to take it on.”Dr. Mohammed reminded him. He said that a lot about the problems Mickey brought him, separating out what was actually a Mickey issue versus a someone else issue he was inappropriately involving himself in.

This however, was not as easy as a lot of those things had been.Ian was in no shape to take care of a kid by himself.Especially not now.“He can’t take care of a kid.He can’t even take care of a goddamn dog.”

“DCFS thinks otherwise it would seem.”

“He can barely take care of himself.” Mickey muttered, thinking about all the bad decision making Ian had done over the past week.He had people to help him avoid disaster, but if it was just him and the kid in the house by themselves...like, what happened if Ian went off the rails Friday night and no one noticed until Monday when he went back to work? 

“I see.”

“I mean, nothing bad will happen to the kid.Ian’s great with kids.He’ll pay for her to go to one of those fancy ass college prep pre-schools rich people send their kids to and hire a nanny or some shit, so she’ll be okay, but...” He trailed off.Frannie, Ian would take care of, but Ian would do it at a cost to himself.

“But you worry he will be overwhelmed by the responsibility.”

“Yeah, I guess.”But it was Ian’s choice to agree to this.That did not mean Mickey had to do it too.In fact he would not be.“I mean, it’s not my problem.I’m going home as soon as Gonzo says I can.”

“I see.”Dr. Mohammed said.

“Why wouldn’t I?”Mickey immediately went on the defensive.“I just need some space to think about things, you know?I need to get over my own shit before I can deal with his shit.And I did not sign up to play house with him and someone else’s kid.”

“I see.”Dr. Mohammed repeated.

“Do you?Because you sound all judgy and like I’m fucking up.”Mickey complained.

“I did not say that.”

“But you think it, right?” Mickey asked, because he could tell Dr. Mohammed wasn't happy with him.

“Your shit, his shit, there will always be shit.All relationships, even the seemingly perfect ones, have shit.”

“I know, but we have some _next_ level shit.”Mickey said, because their problems were not who forgot to recap the toothpaste or who left their shoes everywhere (Ian).

“Would you like to hear what I think?”Dr. Mohammed asked.

“Finally!”Mickey almost crowed.In all the years he had known Dr. Mohammed this was the first time the man had ever offered to give a direct opinion.“Hell yes, I want to know what you think.”

“I think you have as good a chance as most of the couples I see.”

Wait, what?“Seriously?”

“Yes, I do.I think Ian has done a remarkable job managing his illness.I think the addition of a safe word and a wingman are wise choices to mitigate an identified problem.I think you are one of the strongest people I have ever counseled.What you have been through would break most people, but you are resilient, resourceful and it has been very fulfilling for me to watch you grow.Together, you are respecting each other’s boundaries, listening to each other and talking through things.I think your relationship is healthier than you give it credit for.”

“Really?”Mickey asked, mind blown.This was not what he expected to hear at all.

“Yes, really.As an example, Ian was manic and acted out.You protected yourself.When he came down you talked about it and came up with a plan for next time.That is healthy.Another example; you decided to be open with Ian about what happened to you and he respects both your boundaries and your desire to push them as much as possible.That is also healthy.” Dr. Mohammed paused and then added, “I see more good than bad and am especially encouraged both of you continue to work on it.”

“Oh.”Mickey had no idea how to respond to that.

“Right now you are at a crossroads where you need to define the relationship you want to have with Ian.You give up something either way you choose.If you decide to resume a romantic relationship, you risk another rejection.If you decide you want to be friendly acquaintances, since you say your lives are too intertwined for a complete break, then you give up what for you is a largely healthy relationship with someone you know and trust.”

Mickey snorted.

“You may not always like what you trust, but you trust how he will behave, do you not?”

“Like fucking around when he’s manic?”Mickey asked, because that was still getting to him.

“Yes, like that.”There was a pause, then Dr. Mohammed changed the subject. “If you decide you want to be a couple again, you have to come to terms with that and help him mitigate it as much as it can be.”

That would be great and all, “But he...”

“Was manic.” Dr. Mohammed cut him off, apparently able to read Mickey’s mind now.“The moment he came down, tell me, what did he do?” 

Mickey took a second to think about that.“Ratted himself out and tried to build a buffer so it doesn’t happen again.”

“Do you have any idea how rare this is?”Mickey could hear the smile in the older man’s voice.

Mickey thought about that for a moment.Ian had always been something of a rarity.He had over come a lifetime of abuse and neglect, built an incredible life for himself, gotten his family out of poverty, started a huge company, all while battling mental illness.The guy was pretty fucking amazing.

Ian could have anyone he wanted, but he was choosing to spend his time with Mickey, a grouchy, emotionally stunted, ex-con with PTSD and some fucked up sexual hang ups.No one volunteered for that shit unless, “He really does love me, huh?”

“If actions speak louder than words, it would seem so.”

“He’s said the words, too.”Mickey was tripping out on the way Ian loving him was settling into his chest.It was like something warm spreading through him.It was a little overwhelming.“What if I still need a little space, though?”

“Ask for it.”Dr. Mohammed suggested.

Mickey had not asked.He had instead told Ian he was leaving.“He thinks I hate him.”

“No, he doesn’t.”Dr. Mohammed disagreed.“If you ask him, my guess is he would say he knows you’ve been hurt.He knows he is responsible for some of that hurt.He understands your physical limitations and is willing to accommodate however you need him to.He is trying to protect you from his worst self.If you would be happier without him, he would let you go.”

Every single one of those things Ian had either already said or implied.Why was it so clear to other people and so hard for him to see?“Dr. Brynner tell you that?”

“No.You have. All of this comes straight from you.” 

Well, hell.

***

The house felt strange with no one in it.

Lip and Fiona were with Debbie at the hotel so it was just Ian and Mickey at home waiting for Frannie to be dropped off.

Mickey had gone back to bed.

Ian was in his office trying to make sense of some of his notes from earlier in the week.He had no idea what he had been thinking which was depressing. He had been out of his head, drifting from one thought to another in a disconnected mishmash of nonsense.

He sighed and decided to take the dog for a walk.He needed out of the house for a little bit.

“Scraggles, you wanna go for a walk?”Scraggles jumped out of his doggie bed and turned circles which Ian took as the canine equivalent of yes.

Scraggles was hot on his heels as they made their way down to the first floor.

“Where’s your coat, little dog?Any idea where I left it?”Ian asked the dog as he opened the dog drawer in the huge entry table.The leash and poop bags were there, but no coat.Ian glanced down at the dog who was looking back up at him, tail wagging.“No?”

Ian kept rummaging through the dog drawer until he found one of the lighter little sweaters Yevgeny had wanted to get for Scraggles.“This is gonna be a short one, bud.Too cold for a long one.”

He got the dog dressed and then put on his own heavy coat and went outside.

It was snowing again.He stood on his stoop for a while just watching the snow fall until Scraggles tugged hard on the leash and he decided it was time to go.

They set off at a slow pace since Scraggles liked to stop and smell everything.He also liked to mark everything.Ian didn't care.It was just something dogs did so when a woman on the street glared at him, Ian grinned at her because biology was just a fact of life.

Then he realized she was the lady who lived one house over from him.She was the one who had complained when he had a pride flag flying by his front door.

He had taken it down, not because he wanted to per say, but because it had been only the second day he lived in the house and he didn't want to get off on the wrong foot with his neighbors.

Looking at her now, he decided he was going to put it back up.Fuck her.

Scraggles barked and Ian’s attention turned back to his dog.There was another dog being walked across the street.He waved a hello and kept going ambling slowly down his street lost in his own world.

Ian had a strong suspicion regardless what had happened between them that morning, Mickey was more out than in on the idea of a relationship.

He had really fucked up.He’d had such a long run without a major episode, he had gotten complacent.Everything had started to feel so normal, like old times before all the worry and meds and the limp dick and the joy ride. 

They would have to talk again because as much as Ian wanted to promise Mickey he would never cheat again, odds were he would.It was in his wiring.He could and would compensate for it, but eventually he would fuck up again.It was just a matter of time. 

It was a hell of a thing to put Mickey through.Not that it sounded like Mickey planned to go through it.

Fucking Debbie.Frannie was a huge cock block Debbie had pushed in front of them.Mickey indeed had not signed up for this.Neither had Ian, but she was his niece.What else could he do?

His phone buzzed in his pocket.He pulled it out and stared at it until it unlocked and displayed a message from Mickey.

//kid’s here//

Shit.

***

“Ian’ll be right back.He just took the dog for a walk.”Mickey told Michelle, the DCFS worker, as she entered the house carrying a very shy Frannie. 

“That’s fine.” Michelle said putting down her bag and turning around so Frannie was facing him.“Frannie, do you remember Mickey?”

The little girl buried her face in Michelle’s shoulder and wouldn’t look at him.

“I’m Yev’s dad, remember?”It still felt weird to say that.

“Is Yev here?”She asked very quietly.

“No.But maybe we can invite him and his mom to dinner.What do you say?”Mickey hoped like hell Svetlana would take pity on him and bring the kid over.

“I want my mommy.”Frannie’s said in that demanding, stubborn tone universal to young children.Tears were going to follow, Mickey was certain.

“Yeah.I know.”Mickey agreed, because he remembered what it felt like to be torn away from his family and left in a room full of strangers.They had told him he would see his mother very soon but that had been a lie.It had been two months before his uncle came for him and he was able to see his mother again.

The door burst open and a snow covered Ian barged into the room trailed by an equally snowy Scraggles.“Sorry, I was walking the dog.” 

As he shrugged out of his coat Ian smiled at Michelle and Frannie, saying, “Hey Frannie.How’s my favorite niece?”

“I’m your only niece.”Frannie reminded him with a sniffle.It was a joke between them so at least she recognized Ian.

“Which makes you my favorite.Come here.”He held out his arms to her.

“I want my mommy.”She told him, sniffling again, but she let him take her.

Ian sighed and carried her over to the couch.Michelle followed him.“I know, baby.Your mommy wants you too, but you have to stay with me and Mickey for a while, okay?”

Mickey took that moment to call Svetlana.The moment she answered he said, “Hey, can you come over?I’ll cook.”

“Why?It is school night.”

“It’s a long story, but I think having Yev here would help.”Mickey replied.He would tell her when she got there.

“This is because orange boy has custody of baby carrot, yes?”She asked because of course she knew everything.She always knew.

“Basically.”Mickey agreed.

“We must leave by seven so Yevgeny gets sleep before school.”

“Cool.”Mickey was willing to agree to almost anything if it got her and his son over for dinner.

“We will have steak for dinner, yes?”

He would have to get a grocery delivery, but, “Yeah, fine. Just get over here.”

“We come.”She told him and then hung up.

When Mickey turned around, Michelle was picking up her bag and telling Ian to call her if he needed anything.She waved at Mickey as she left.

With the realization that for the foreseeable future it would just be the three of them and Scraggles, Mickey decided he needed even more reinforcements and called Mandy to invite her and Iggy over, too.

***

Mandy stared into her glass of red wine.

She had a lot on her mind.

Frannie had finally turned into a listless lump in Ian’s arms as he paced from living room to kitchen and back again over and over. 

When she and Iggy got there the little girl had be in full meltdown screaming for her mother.It was heartbreaking and stirred up a lot of emotions Mandy would have preferred to leave buried.

She wished she had refused Mickey’s rather instant texting that she and Iggy join them for dinner.She had not understood the urgency until she walked in and heard the caterwauling.

Frannie knew all of them from Christmas, but they weren’t her usual family and it was clear the little girl was scared shitless.It was horrible. 

“Why isn’t Fiona here?”Iggy asked as he approached her carrying a bottle of red wine in one hand and a six pack of beer in the other.

Mandy had asked the same question when she first got there.“She’s with Debbie.Apparently she’s taking this about as well as her kid is.”

“Jesus.” Iggy muttered sinking into the couch beside her and popping open the first of what Mandy assumed would be many beers.

From the kitchen she heard Mickey say, “I have no fucking clue what I’m doing.”

“No parent does.”Svetlana answered. “You do the best you can.Keep them clean.Keep them fed.Help them learn.Keep them safe.This is all you can do.”

Mickey was great with Yevgeny now, but that had not always been the case.Mandy had always secretly thought he was terrified of his son and of becoming the sort of father their dad was which was why he had been so resistant when Yevgeny was born. 

Mickey snorted and threw a wild gesture in Ian’s direction.“I can do all of that shit, but what am I supposed to do with that?”

Mandy’s eyes travelled over to Ian who was bouncing Frannie in his arms because the little girl had started crying again and begging for her mommy.Another stab of emotion cut into Mandy.

Svetlana was quick to dismiss Mickey’s concerns.“Ah, idiot ex-husband, for that you hold her.You let her cry.You listen.You tell her her mama loves her and she will see her mama again.You do not promise soon, because she does not understand time.To child soon means now.”

“I’m not built for this.”Mickey groaned, running a hand down his face before looking over at Ian again. “He’s so good at it.”

“He has practice.You will learn.”

Mandy wasn’t so sure about that.There had been and still was love in the Gallagher house. The Milkovich house had been ruled by fear.Mickey had never learned any of this shit.None of them had.

“Mickey looks like his vein is gonna pulse right out of his head.”Iggy observed.

It’s an artery, Mandy wanted to say but she kept her mouth shut.Mickey did look like he was about to blow a gasket, but it was because he was terrified he would fuck up. 

Svetlana and Ian had laid a foundation with Yevgeny to make sure when Mickey came back into his life, Yevgeny would welcome him.A lot of the heavy lifting had already been done.The hardest part for Mickey had been realizing his son loved and trusted him.Then it was dealing with the fear he would fuck both of those things up.

Frannie didn’t know Mickey from Adam and had no reason to trust him.She was only four and even though she saw Ian every few months that wasn't enough time to really imprint on him either.As far as Frannie was concerned, she was surrounded by strangers and terrified.

“Can’t believe the court gave her to a couple queers.”Iggy muttered.

“What the fuck does that matter?”Mandy snarled back.Both times she had been in a foster home she would have killed to have people like Mickey and Ian watching over her.

Chastened, Iggy shrugged.“Guess it doesn’t really.Just, Ian’s bipolar and Mickey’s a Milkovich.”

Those were legitimate concerns.Mickey had no clue how to parent, not that anyone really did until they had to.He just had super shitty role models.Ian would be a rockstar dad when he was even, but a swing too far in either direction could be disastrous.It was still way better than anywhere she had ever been placed, but it wasn’t Leave it to Beaver either.

“Pops would say they’re asking the fox to guard the henhouse giving her to them.”Iggy said, reminding Mandy that her father was a raging homophobe who thought all gay men were child molesters and perverts.Meanwhile, Pops was actually both.

“Our dad got us back every time.”And maybe that was it.This whole thing was hitting her in the feels because she had been Frannie.She knew exactly what that little girl was going through and it killed her.She had been in some really horrible homes were bad things happened to her.No one had protected her.No one had come to save her.When her uncles or her dad finally reclaimed her it was just going from the frying pan into the fire.

“Mickey’s gonna bolt.”

Mandy refilled her wine glass and took a long sip as she watched Mickey and Svetlana bicker in the kitchen.Mickey did look flustered and like he would rather be anywhere else, but he was still there.He was still in his kitchen and that had to mean something.“I hope not.”

“Look at him.”

Mandy was looking at him.“None of us have ever been on this side of it before.It’s freaking me out, too.”

Iggy was quiet for a time and then said, “Yeah, maybe that’s it.”

“This is really fucking with me.” Mandy admitted because now she knew her usually placid brother was feeling it too.

“Me, too.” Iggy agreed.He leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees like he was deep in thought.“We’re the fucking grown ups now.Like, an actual court of law just entrusted our dip shit brother with a foster kid.What the fuck is that?”

Another piece of the puzzle fell into place.They were not abused kids anymore.They were adults dealing with the fallout.They couldn’t rely on their instincts like other people could because their instincts were born in violence and terror.They had to go slower, think about things more before they acted.If they didn’t... “We can’t let that little girl end up like us.”

“She’s living in a huge ass mansion with a couple fags.That’s about as far from us as you can get.”

“I know.” But that wasn’t the point.Money didn’t keep people from being terrible.Look at Jeffrey Epstein.“But it’s like...she’s in the system.They could pull her from here any time and then she’d just end up in one of those shit holes we lived in.I mean, she already spent a couple nights out of the hospital in temporary housing. She’s only four.”

And who knew what had already happened to her in the two days she spent in a short term foster care.Mandy knew from experience a lot could happen in a very short period of time.

“Poor kid.”Iggy agreed.

“Debbie’s an idiot.”Mandy repeated for what had to be the tenth time.She was so angry at Debbie.It was irrational since the last time she had been sick she had treated herself naturally with herbs and oils she found on Pinterest, but she had not been a baby with a fever of 106.

“I didn’t take nothin’ and I got through it okay.”Iggy shrugged.

“You aren’t four.” Which was the point.Iggy and Mandy could decide when enough was enough and drag themselves to a minute clinic, but Frannie could not.She had to rely on her mom who had almost let her die. “And you’re still hacking up a lung, so shut the fuck up.”

They were silent for a while as Mandy filled her glass again and Iggy sipped on his second beer.His knee was bouncing so she knew he would be going to the roof to smoke soon.He belched and asked, “You think they can handle this?”

“I hope they can.” Mandy replied, watching Ian gently rocking Frannie who had once again quieted.He was just coming down from mania, but he looked okay.That was the problem with him though.He always looked okay until he wasn’t.Mickey, on the other hand, looked like hell.Both of them were fragile for different reasons and she wondered if their relationship was strong enough to endure this added stressor. “The timing sucks ass.”

“It sure does.”Iggy agreed.

“We’re going to have to help them, you know that, right?” Mandy asked, because if Frannie was going to be taken care of and Ian and Mickey were going to survive this it was going to take all of them to make it happen.

“I’m no good with kids.”Iggy said, shaking his head.

“And I am?They are?”

“Ian looks pretty good.”Iggy said.

“Ian is fragile as fuck.”Mandy disagreed.“Mickey’s not in great shape either.”

“I guess I could babysit sometimes, if they let me.”Iggy offered.It sounded awkward, which it had to be since Milkoviches were not known for a willingness to get into each other’s emotional shit.If there wasn’t someone they could beat up, mostly they just avoided each other until things settled back down.

The thought of Iggy babysitting, alone, just him and a kid, was not confidence inspiring.Nor was it needed.Ian would for sure hire a nanny.Rather, they just needed to be present and supportive.“I just think we need to spend as much time as we can with them.At least in the beginning.”

“New York Milkoviches.”Iggy said, nodding.

“Yep.”Mandy agreed.New York Milkoviches were made of more compassionate, caring stuff than the Chicago variety.They just had to learn how show it better. 

***

“Is she sleeping?”Mickey asked as Ian walked into the bedroom and flopped down on the bed.Scraggles jumped up and curled into a tired ball at the end of the bed. 

“Yeah.Poor thing cried herself to sleep.”Ian said, throwing an arm over his eyes.

“She’s too young to understand any of this.”Mickey said, remembering all too well how it had felt when DCFS took him away when he was about six years old. 

“I know.”Ian had also been in and out of the system a couple times in his childhood just like Mickey had been.

There was a sad heaviness hanging in the air that was interrupted by Mickey’s phone chirping.He picked it up and rolled his eyes.“I swear to God, if your sister texts me one more time, I will kill her.”

“Which one is texting you?”Ian asked as he got up from the bed, pulled his shirt off and headed toward the closet.

“Debbie.”Mickey said, as he read the message about how Frannie had to have two cups of water at her bedside if he wanted her to sleep through the night.It was the latest in a long string of instructions he had been randomly receiving all night.

“She’s not texting me at all.Fiona’s been blowing me up instead.” Ian said from the closet.

“I think she’s pissed you have custody of her kid.”Actually, Mickey knew she was pissed.She had been cycling through instructions, apologies and rage for hours now.It was getting really old.

“Technically so do you.”Ian reminded him as he came out of the closet dressed in boxers and nothing else. 

“Only because I’m staying here.”Mickey retorted. 

“Huh.”Ian grunted as he climbed into bed and Mickey lost sight of him over the Great Pillow Wall.

As hard as all of this was for him, it had to be harder for Ian.Ian remembered who he had been before his bipolar emerged.He had been responsible and reliable.He had been a rock for others to lean on.He still thought of himself as the rock, but his illness made him shifting sand.Old habits meant he still took on the responsibility, but then in turn had to rely on other people to help him build fail safes so he would hold up under the pressure. 

Mickey wasn’t sure he could be that for Ian.He sure as shit couldn’t do it for Frannie.“Svet gave me a couple leads on daycares you can maybe get her into.She figures if you buy them a wing or something they’ll let you enroll her late.”

“Huh.”

“She also told me about an agency that reps nannies.”Mickey continued with what he thought was going to be super important in the coming months.Even if he decided to stay, neither of them were equipped for the job of full time parent. 

“Huh.”

Annoyed now at Ian’s lack of response, Mickey asked, “What’s with all the huh?”

“This is just so real.”

“What the fuck did you think it was?Pretend?”Mickey asked.Now that he didn’t have his psycho father breathing down his neck, Mickey no longer made a habit of taking on tasks he didn’t think he could manage.He planned things out, considered the consequences and benefits before he committed. 

Ian was more impetuous.It was a feature of his disorder and thus not always his fault, but it drove Mickey nuts.

“No.” Ian quickly denied.Then he elaborated saying, “I thought a dog was a good first step, you know?Like I had this whole thing planned out and now...”

He trailed off and Mickey knew none of this had anything to do with Frannie.This was Ian dreaming about their future.

“...I’m further than ever from what I want and at the same time so much closer, if that makes sense.”Ian finished.

“None.”Which was a total lie, but he didn't want to talk about it.Ian loved kids.He was great with Yevgeny.Mickey was 100 percent sure Ian was dreaming about getting married and adopting, so yeah, Ian had fucked it up. 

“I keep fucking up.”Ian sighed. 

Mickey silently agreed with him.

They were quiet for a long time after that.Mickey let himself think a little about the previouslyunthinkable.

He had once had a pipe dream about marrying Ian and raising Yevgeny together.He had even dreamed up a lot of creative ways to get rid of Svetlana to make it happen.

In the end though, he was grateful he had not gotten his wish.Svetlana was a good mother and his son was happy.He was damned lucky to be a part of their lives.

That sparked a question.“What about her father?”

“What about him?”Ian sounded sleepy.

“Frannie’s not an immaculate conception so where the fuck is her sperm donor?”Mickey had been a shitty father when Yevgeny was born, too mired in his own shit to want to even acknowledge he might have sired a son with a woman he loathed, but as time passed he warmed to the idea. 

He might never really know if Yevgeny was his son or his brother, but looking at him it was clear the kid was a Milkovich.For better or worse, Mickey made the conscious decision to be a dad and as weird and uncomfortable as it was sometimes, it was the best decision of his life.

It made him angry Frannie’s dad was nowhere to be found.The fucker was letting his baby fall into the system.She deserved better.

“I don’t know.”Ian admitted.“I wasn’t thinking straight when all this was going down so I got left out of a lot of it.I don’t know what was discussed and what wasn’t.I just know they asked me to take her.”

So this whole thing might be dead in the water already.There was no way Debbie had told the father what had happened and he would bet every penny he had she had lied to DCFS in an attempt to keep the father from gaining even temporary custody.“Might want to figure that out there, sport.”

Ian was angry for a different reason.“That’s what you want, right?For her dad to come along and take her away so you don’t have to deal with her?”

“I was more thinking about how much it would suck to get attached to her and to have her get used to being here, and then have to hand her over to a complete fucking stranger.”Mickey replied.He had not had much time with his son, but those few months had been enough to create a powerful bond.He could not imagine life without Yevgeny in it anymore.“It’s not even a year since I got out, but it would fucking kill me to lose Yev.”

After a pause, Ian quietly asked, “April, right?”

“Yeah.”Mickey had not really thought about how long he had been out because in some ways it felt like yesterday and in others like it had all just been a bad dream.He preferred not to dwell on it.

“I can’t believe it’s not even been a year.”Ian said, sounding awed.“You’ve done so much.”

“Guess so.”Mickey shrugged off the praise.It made him uncomfortable.“Point is, you’re gonna get attached to the kid.”

“I already am.She’s my niece.”Ian sighed, but then added, “But I know what you mean.I’ll have the lawyer look into it because if Debbie somehow hid him from DCFS or hid this whole mess from him, things could get ugly.”

“Exactly.”

***

“The fuck?”Mickey woke up to the sound of screaming.

It took him a long frightened moment to realize it was Frannie.They had set Mildred to act as a baby monitor.Scraggles was scratching at the door trying to get out.Ian, of course, was sleeping right through it.Lucky fucker.“Mildred, show me Frannie.”

The TV screen blinked on and he saw Frannie had made it down to the first floor and was tryingto get out the front door.“Damn it.Mildred, she can’t get out can she?”

“The doors are locked.Do you wish me to unlock?”

“No!”

At least Frannie was contained.That was good.

Mickey pushed back the covers and grabbed his crutches, trying to decide how to approach this. Terrified child was new territory for him. He had been one back in the day, but fuck if he knew what to do as the grown up in the room. 

Scraggles ran past him down the stairs as he stumped his way to the elevator. Waiting for it to come, he asked himself what had made him feel better as a kid and ironically that had been food. Someone would give him a treat or his mom would pull something out of the microwave and he would feel better.

As he rode the elevator down he wondered if he had anything sweet in the house or if he could make something sweet for Frannie.Kids loved sweets...and he sounded like a pervert in a park trying to lure a kid into his molester mobile with candy.Fucking fuck.

The elevator dinged and he stepped out.She turned and looked at him and her crying got even louder as she backed up against the door clearly afraid of him.Even the dog, who would usually be jumping all over her, was keeping his distance jumping up onto one of the couches watching.

Mickey decided to act as if nothing was weird so he said, “Hey, Frannie.I was thirsty so I came down to get something to drink.You okay?”

She kept screaming.

He moved around to the bar and took down the baby gate Ian had put up as a temporary solution to closing off the bar like Michelle had ordered he do.“I know you’re scared, shortcake, but you don’t need to be.You’re safe here.”

She kept crying and he remembered being told he was safe when he knew he wasn’t.That was the wrong tactic.Reconsidering his approach, he tried again.“I know you’ve been sick and in the hospital.Sometimes, in the hospital people are sort of mean, huh?Sometimes they have to hurt you to help you and it’s scary because you don’t know that when they do it.They tell you later and then you have to decide if you believe them or not.I’ve spent a lot of time in hospitals so I know.”

He was rambling, but the crying went down a few notches and she watched him as he poured himself a scotch.If he had to be calm and nice, he needed a social lubricant to do it.He took a sip and let it burn it’s way down his throat to his stomach.It was very good scotch.

With a hiccup Frannie asked, “You been in the hop-it-all?” 

“Oh, yeah.Way too much.”Mickey confirmed, finding it very weird they might end up bonding over medical problems, but shrugging it off because he was willing to take any port in a storm.“If you added it all up, probably close to a year of my life.”

“It was scary.”She said, taking a step away from the door.

“I know.” He nodded.It was fucking scary.“Lots of things beeping and people coming in all the time.Sometimes people are running around doing all sorts of stuff really fast and they don’t tell you what they’re doing or why.”

She walked over to the bar wiping snot onto her sleeve.“They made me really cold.”

“You had a fever.”Mickey told her only to get a confused look as she pulled herself up onto a barstool.He wasn't entirely sure, but it seemed reasonable they would ice her down.So he told her that. “That means you were way too hot so they had to make you cold to bring your temperature down.”

“I didn’t like it.”She told him as he searched through the bar for a child appropriate something or other to give her.

He discovered the soda gun was still loaded which pissed him off since Ian had told him they were out of Coke, but he shelved his outrage for later.He grabbed a glass, opened the ice machine door and used the scoop to fill it. “Yeah, I hated pretty much everything they did to me, too.We’re alive though, so there’s that.”

“What’s your name?”She asked as he filled the glass with 7-Up and a splash of grenadine. 

“Mickey.You’re Frannie, right?”He put a paper straw (WTF Ian) in the glass and pushed the drink towards her.They had been in the house together for weeks but had not interacted much so introductions did seem in order. 

“You’re Yev’s dad.”She said as she took a sip and smiled at him with red, watery eyes.

“I am.”He confirmed, pleased as punch with himself that he not only got her to stop crying but actually smiling at him.

Then she dropped the bomb. “Where’s my mommy?”

Mickey thought about how to answer for a moment before he went with honesty.“Your mom is safe and she misses you, but she can’t see you right now.”

“Why?”Frannie asked and she looked like she might start crying again.

“Your mom loves you a lot, but when you were sick she made a mistake.It was a pretty big mistake and you almost died so DCFS said your mom has to take some classes to learn how to take care of you better.Once she’s done with all those then she can get you back.” He told her, hoping like hell he wasn’t lying to the kid.“In the meantime, you have to live with your uncle Ian.”

She started crying again, but it wasn't a wail like before.It was the much more familiar tears of an over tired child who didn't understand. “I don’t wanna.”

“I know, but it is what it is.”He said, refilling his scotch and getting her another drink as well.“He’ll take good care of you.”

“I want my mommy.”She cried.

“I know, doll face, but for now, you have to stay here.”He felt a little like crying himself.It was so sad what this child was going through.He understood exactly how she felt because he had been through it, too.Feeling abandoned was not something a person ever really got over, not when it happened so young. 

“With you?”She asked, wide, tear bright eyes looking up at him.

Jesus.She was hitting on all cylinders with the guilt trip, but he was going to resist.He needed to resist.“With your uncle Ian.”

“But you’ll be here, too.”She told him as if it was fact.

“For a while.” 

***

Ian sat on the stairs out of sight, listening.He knew he shouldn’t be, but when he heard them talking, he didn’t want to interrupt.Mickey was doing a great job at this parenting thing.He was hitting all the right notes, not being over bearing or insistent.Instead he was acknowledging Frannie’s feelings and letting her be sad.

Fiona, if she could see this, would be impressed.

As Ian sat there, Mickey asked, “Have you ever gone to school?”

“I’m too little.”

“Nah.Maybe for kindergarten but there’s also pre-school.Yev went to pre-school.He did really good there and he made friends for when he started real school.If Uncle Ian could swing it would you wanna go?”

“I guess so.”She did not sound enthused.

“You ever been to daycare?”

“I hate daycare.”She snapped back very fast.Clearly there was some history there.Debbie would have had to put Frannie in daycare so she could work and she would have done it as cheaply as she could.It had probably been a situation very similar to the Gallagher summer daycare.

“Oh.How come?”Mickey asked, no judgement in his tone. 

“It’s bad.”

“Yeah?”Mickey said, and it was hard to tell if he was asking or agreeing.

“The toys were all broken.”

“Oh.Yeah, that’s not good.”Mickey affirmed.Then he asked, “What if the toys weren’t broken?Would you have liked it better then?”

“But they were.”She told him, tone of voice very serious.

“Yeah.Got it.But if there were brand new toys and other kids to play with, that would be kinda cool, right?”

“I guess so.”Again, she was not enthused.

“And if they had the good snacks, that would be even better, huh?”Mickey asked.

“Yeah, okay.I’m hungry.” 

Ian’s heart swelled.Mickey was a natural at parenting.He had always known there was a gooey center to the brunette, but Mickey was much more willing to let it ooze out now.He could be kind and gentle.He had compassion and empathy.It was beautiful and made Ian love him even more.

“Me too actually.Mildred, what time is it?” Mickey asked and the AI immediately told him it was a little after six thirty.His next question was,“Mildred, where’s Ian?”

“I’m right here.”Ian said scrambling to get up and into the room because Mildred was going to rat him out.

“Ian is in the first floor stairwell.”The AI said just as Ian came off the landing.

“Sneaky bastard.”Mickey smirked at him.Ian shrugged.He was caught.Nothing he could do about it.

“Getting started a little early there, huh?”Ian asked, eyeing the bottle of scotch and half finger of amber fluid at the bottom of a cut crystal whiskey glass.It worried him Mickey was drinking so early, especially since he had not been drinking much since they had been reintroduced.A little drinking here and there he could deal with, but he really hoped this wasn’t going to become Mickey’s coping mechanism.

Mickey arched an eyebrow at him.“It’s still dark, how the hell was I supposed to know what time it is?I got started _late_.”

Mickey wasn’t drinking much, mostly just the occasional beer or wine with dinner.This was the first time Ian had seen him drink liquor.Maybe the added stress of Frannie was driving him to drink.It was another thing for Ian to feel guilty about.

Mickey knocked back the last of his scotch and nodded at Frannie’s empty glass.“You done, sweet cheeks?”

“Yeah.”She agreed pushing the near empty glass toward Mickey.

“Soda gun works, isn’t that something?”Mickey asked, eyeing him.

Oops.Ian nodded guiltily.It wasn’t like Mickey couldn’t just buy Coke when he did the normal shopping, but he still felt bad about withholding that bit of information.

Mickey took Frannie’s glass and looked back up at Ian.“Go run.Frannie and me are gonna go make breakfast, aren’t we?”

“What are we gonna make, Mickey?”She asked as she climbed down off the barstool.

Mickey winked at Ian.“I dunno.How about oatmeal?”

“Yuck.”Frannie made a face.

“Cheesy eggs?”Ian asked, because that meant he would get an omelette.

Frannie shrugged, not looking happy.“I guess.”

“Pancakes?”Mickey asked already smiling.

Frannie lit up, her curly red head bobbing enthusiastically.“Oh, pancakes!We should definitely make pancakes.”

“I guess we’re making pancakes.”Mickey announced.Then he looked down toward Ian’s shins and reminded, “Don’t forget to take the dog for a walk.”

“I’m not.Christ.” He had been jumped on a couple of times already.There was no way Scraggles was going to let himself be ignored.Obviously, he would walk the dog first. “There are going to be workmen here today putting in the doggie door and redoing the courtyard to make it dog friendly.”

“Yeah?”Mickey asked as he washed out the glasses they had used and put them away.

“I told you, I’m taking care of the dog.Scraggles needs an outdoor space so I’m making that for him.”Ian wasn’t sure why he was feeling so defensive this morning, but he was taking everything Mickey was saying like he was being attacked.. 

“So no more walks for Scraggles, huh?”

“It’s so Scraggles doesn’t have to wait for a walk.And I’ll be able to get back to my routine.I’ll run first and then walk him as part of my cool down. It’s a win, win.”

“Uh huh.”Mickey agreed with a knowing look, moving out from behind the bar. “Come here.”

Mickey was smiling at him in that way Ian knew meant the smaller man wanted some affection.Ian went over and wrapped his arms around Mickey and bent down to kiss him.Mickey shied away, but then gave in, the scotch/morning breath combo be damned.

The pure domesticity of it all was like crack to Ian.He was going to walk the dog while his lover and their foster daughter were making breakfast.All that was missing was a white picket fence and permanency, it was so fucking perfect.“You know I could get used to this, right?”

“Well, don’t.”Mickey said, lightly slapping Ian’s cheek as he backed up.Ian would have let that get to him if it weren’t for the light in Mickey’s eyes.He might not want to, but Mickey was clearly feeling it too.

While Mickey and Frannie talked about what kind of pancakes they would make, Ian got Scraggles in his coat (it had fallen behind the entry table) and hooked up to his leash.He was about to leave when Mickey and Frannie finally agreed on banana pancakes with chocolate syrup and whipped cream.

Ian opened the front door and paused, looking back at what was essentially his dream.Overcome and feeling a little teary eyed he said, “Love you!”

Then he left before anyone could ruin the moment.


	48. Breakfast or Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More domesticity...

Mickey was in the kitchen with Frannie.She was mushing up bananas and making a huge mess, but she wasn’t crying so he didn’t care. 

He was sifting together the dry ingredients when his phone went off.“Hello?”

“Hi Mickey, it’s Fiona.” 

He could tell from her tone of voice something was wrong.“Hey.”

“Um, so how’s Ian?” 

Yeah, nothing good was happening if that was what she was leading with.Ian had seemed okay, a little defensive maybe, but nothing that had Mickey worried about his mood.Whatever was going on, Ian would be okay today.Probably.“Running.This is awful early for you, what’s up?”

“How’s Frannie?”She asked.

“Making pancakes with me.”Mickey told her starting to get annoyed with all the questions.He wanted to know what the problem was.“What’s up?”

“Frank.” She said. “He’s in a coma.”

“Okay.”Mickey nodded, neither surprised nor concerned by this news. The man was dying after all.

“They don’t think he’ll last the night.”

Mickey wondered how Ian would take it.Making Ian go talk to Frank in the hospital had been the right thing to do, but he wasn't sure how to handle this.That meeting had seemed pretty final, but maybe Ian would want to see him one last time?

“I called and talked to everyone and Carl and Liam want to come back.”She sounded shaky.“Ford is coming with them.”

Mickey felt a little sorry for Fiona.She had a lot on her plate dealing with Debbie’s fallout, trying to raise Liam and worrying about Lip and Ian all the time.He knew the family would want to be together for this and he knew what Ian would do to make that happen.“Okay. Is everyone cool with O’Hare?”

“Yeah.Ford is picking up Liam and Carl is making his way up from school.They should all be at the airport by 11 at the latest.” 

“Got it.”Mickey said, looking at his watch.It was almost seven and Ian would not be back for another thirty minutes.“Hey Mildred, can you book flights for me?”

“Yes.”The AI said in her calm voice.

“Thanks, Mickey.”Fiona sounded relieved as if there was some doubt Ian would pony up for this or maybe she thought Mickey would try to get in the way or something.

They weren’t best friends, but Mickey wasn’t a big enough asshole to fuck up something like this.Wanting to get off the phone before he said something snarky, he made an excuse.“Hey, Ian’s about to be back.Gotta go.”

“Do you think he’ll want to be there?”She asked before he could hang up.

Mickey sighed.“I’ll ask him, but I doubt it.”

“Arrangements will need to be made.”She reminded, sounding sad again.

“Buried next to Monica, I know.”Mickey knew arrangements had already been made when Frank entered hospice.All Ian had to do was set them in motion.

“Thanks, Mickey.”She said again.

“Alright.”Mickey just wanted off the phone.“I’ll text you the flight information as soon as I have it, okay?”

“Thanks.”She said and as soon as the word was out of her mouth Mickey hung up.

Frannie tugged on his pants leg. He glanced down at her, discovering she was covered in banana.“Are these mushed enough?”

“Yeah, kid.Those are perfect.Go wash your hands.”

“I can’t reach it.”She said, standing in front of the sink and holding her arms up to show him.

He couldn’t lift her either.For a moment he thought about sending her to her room to use the tub because if she couldn’t reach the kitchen sink she couldn’t reach the one in the powder room either, but she would leave a trail of goo all the way there.They needed to get some stools for the kitchen and bathrooms, but that wouldn’t help him right now.Then he had anidea.He pulled the kitchen towel off his shoulder and got it wet before handing it to her. “Okay, um, here.”

While Frannie started cleaning her hands, Mickey decided to just go ahead and book the flights if he could get Mildred to do it for him.It would save Ian the hassle and keeping this as stress free as possible was going to be very important right now.“Hey Mildred, I need to book a flight from Chicago O’Hare to LaGuardia for three people leaving after 12 pm today.Can you do that?”

“Yes.Searching...American Airlines flight 1341 meets criteria.It departs Chicago O’Hare at 1:35 pm and arrives at LaGuardia at 3:45 pm.Shall I book it?”

Mickey had taken a bus from Chicago to New York when he had come here.He had never booked a flight or been on a plane, but it sounded alright so he said, “Um, sure.”

“Who will be traveling?”

“Carl, Liam and Ford.”He said, aware as soon as he finished that was not enough information to even book a bus ticket. 

Mildred confirmed this by saying, “Carl Francis Gallagher, Liam Fergus Biercheart Gallagher and Ford Lochlan Kellogg, correct?”

She must have their full names from their prior flights, Mickey assumed.“Yeah, okay.” 

It took a moment during which Mickey started to worry this wasn’t going to work, but then Mildred said, “I have their confirmation numbers.Shall I text them to you?”

“Yeah.”Mickey agreed.

“Do you want a car to pick them up?”

“Yeah.”He had not thought of that.In some ways Mildred was scary smart. 

“I will arrange it.” She said as his phone dinged with the flight information.

“Thanks.”Mickey answered, forwarding the text to Fiona and telling her a car would be waiting to take them to the hospice.

The phone chirped seconds later.//Thanks, we’re heading to the hospice now.//

//Ok I’ll tell Ian. Will let you know if he’s coming or not//

//Thx//

He wondered how Ian would take the news because it was making him feel a little weird.Frank was a fucking institution.Him dying was like the end of an era.The Southside would never be the same without Frank grifting and scheming and spreading discord wherever he went. 

“Can I stir?”Frannie asked, climbing up on one of the chairs at the kitchen island.

Mickey looked over at her and tried to smile.“Sure, kiddo.”

***

“Smells good in here.”Ian complemented as he jogged up the stairs to the kitchen.His stomach rumbled.He was feeling pretty good, the endorphins from his run had elevated his mood.

The look on Mickey’s face brought it back down.“What’s wrong?”

“Frank’s in a coma.Fiona says he won’t last the night.Your brothers and Ford are coming back.”Mickey’s voice was soft, and there was a gentleness in the way he was looking at Ian that made the redhead’s heart hurt.

Not liking the feeling, Ian immediately jumped to the logistics of the situation.“Oh, I’ll get the flights...”

“Already done.They get here around four and will go straight to the hospice.”Mickey cut him off.

“Thanks.”Ian said, only half meaning it.It was kind of Mickey to take care of the details, but it left him nothing to distract himself with. 

Mickey flipped a pancake while eyeing him.“Do you want to go?”

“Fu...no.”Ian started to say, but then stopped himself.He knew Frannie had heard lots of curse words but he wanted to be better than that now.She deserved better.With a rueful little smile, he corrected himself. “No, I don't want to.”

“Ian, I made this for you!”Frannie told him holding up a plate with a messy stack of pancakes buried under a mountain of whipped cream and drowning in a pool of chocolate.

“Oh, thanks, Frannie.”He said, carefully taking the plate from her so no more of the chocolate syrup dripped onto the floor.Two more equally gooey, highly caloric plates followed.When she sat down Ian looked directly at Frannie and said, “These look yummy.”

Reading his mind, Mickey said, “I can make you an omelette on the side if you want.”

As much as he would have preferred it, he didn’t want to hurt Frannie’s feelings.She wasn’t crying and he didn’t want her to start.Shaking his head, he demurred.“Nah, this is fine.”

Frannie started devouring her pancakes with ravenous delight.Mickey stumped his way over to the table and sat down, leaning his crutches against an empty chair.Before taking a bite he asked, “You okay?” 

“I don’t know.”Ian replied.He could not describe the strange feeling in his chest.

“We can go if you want.”Mickey said, watching him.

There was something in the finality of it all that was getting to him.Not wanting to think too hard about it, Ian offered an excuse.“Can’t take Frannie.”

Mickey arched an eyebrow at him.

“I don’t want to go.It’s cool.”Ian said.

“You sure?”Mickey asked, clearly not believing him.

It made Ian question himself.Would he regret it if he didn’t go?He and Frank had already shared their last words to each other.Frank was in a coma so even if he did still have something to get off his chest it was too late now.Did he need to see Frank take his last breath? 

No, he decided.He didn’t need to see it.“Yeah.Yeah, I’m sure.”

“Maybe we could get someone to watch Frannie.”Mickey suggested.

Frannie had been with them less than 24 hours.It would be cruel to leave her with more strangers.“No, I don’t want to go.Really.I’ll see him at the funeral.” 

“Okay.”Mickey shrugged and resumed eating his pancakes.

***

The rest of the day passed by in a blur for Ian.At the back of his thoughts was the knowledge his not-father was dying and it had a darkening effect on everything. 

The courtyard work was finished and Ethan’s guys had installed a Mildred compatible doggie door.Frannie had gone in and out of it several times to teach Scraggles how to do it.It was cute, but it reminded him of all the times Frank had used one of his children to break in through small openings and steal so he could keep drinking and doing drugs.They complied so they could eat.

While Frannie was napping he and Mickey spent some time together on the couch playing _Torchlight_ which brought back memories of how Frank had never really judged him for being gay but had always given him shit about Mickey. 

Later, he had taken Frannie and Scraggles for a walk when Mickey was working on dinner, but somehow ended up thinking about how many times he and his siblings had wandered the streets of the Southside looking for Frank.

All in all, the day was a dismal stroll down memory lane.

Ian had finally gotten Frannie to sleep around 9 pm.He was in his closet, starting to strip and get ready for bed himself when his phone rang.It was Fiona calling. 

Ian took a breath and then answered.Her first words were, “It’s over.He’s dead.”

“Jesus.”Ian said after a long moment of silence.He had thought when he finally got this news a weight would come off.He didn’t understand how something so anticipated could feel so awful.He felt weighed down and also somehow untethered, like a submarine sinking.“I thought I’d feel better.”

“I know, right?I did too, but I cried.The bastard.” She sounded like she was still on the verge of tears.

“So I guess you need me to call the funeral home and stuff.”Ian said, trying to regain control in the logistics.He needed something to do.

“No.Remember?The hospice made sure we had it all arranged.”

Well, hell.

“We need to fly out in the morning.You know, get things back to normal for the kids.Lip and Debbie are coming with us, too.He’s got to get to school and she’s being threatened with losing her job if she doesn’t go back.”

“Oh.”Ian replied, the weird drifting feeling intensifying.His family was leaving.He didn’t know how to feel about it.On the one hand he was looking forward to some alone time with Mickey...and Frannie, but on the other he was feeling irrationally abandoned.

“You okay, Ian?”Fiona asked.

Was he okay?He had hated Frank for years.Distance had helped.There was nothing more distant than death, so in the long run this would be better, but right now it felt hollow and lonely.“I don’t know.”

“Is Mickey there?”

“Where else would he be?”Ian asked, peaking out of the closet to confirm Mickey was in bed looking at his phone.He was so glad Mickey was there and at the same time so afraid he would leave.

“Can you call DCFS and see if they’ll let you bring Frannie to the funeral?”

“Yeah.Sure.”

“It’ll probably be on Saturday.”

“Okay.”That meant he had to call DCFS first thing in the morning and then make travel arrangements.He would need paperwork from them to fly with her...although maybe not.They did look enough alike for people to think she was either his sister or his daughter.Still, better safe than sorry.

“We have room at the house if you want to stay with us.It’ll be like old times.”

Old times without the threat of Frank showing up to ruin everything.Or old times like before the house had been fully renovated so it barely resembled how it had been when he grew up in it.Nothing about this was like old times.He had been so sure he would love going back as soon as Frank was dead, but somehow he didn’t.He wondered if he would be happier never setting foot in that house again.“Yeah.Okay.Maybe.”

“Do you want me to come over?”

He must have sounded as freaked out as he felt or she would not have offered.He wasn’t sure how he would feel seeing her, but she was the closest thing to a parent he had and somehow it seemed like a hug from Fiona would help.“Yeah?”

“Okay.”She agreed so fast it made Ian think maybe she needed a hug too.“I’ll be there in a little while.”

They hung up and Ian finished getting ready for bed feeling dazed.He wandered out of the closet and into the bedroom.

Mickey looked up from his phone and asked, “Who was that?”

“Fiona.Frank’s dead.”Saying it out loud lessened the weight a little. 

“Oh.”Mickey put his phone down and pulled himself up in a bed a little. “You okay?”

“I don’t know.”Ian replied.

“It’s okay if you’re not.The fucker was your dad.”Mickey said, scooting over a little and holding up the covers so Ian could get in bed next to him.

“Not really.”Ian replied, curling up next to Mickey and sharing his pillow with his face against Mickey’s shoulder.He was not Frank’s son.He was Monica’s incestuous bastard...which was a train of thought he needed to back off of immediately.Stop, he told himself, just stop.

“For all intents and purposes though.”Mickey disagreed as he shifted around until Ian’s head was on his chest and his fingers were running though Ian’s hair.

“I guess.”It was soothing listening to Mickey’s heartbeat, a calm, steady lub-dub, lub-dub metronome slowly bringing down his anxiety.

They laid together for a while in silence and Ian allowed himself to be comforted by the quiet strength Mickey was exuding as his fingers gently moved through Ian’s hair. 

“I can’t believe he’s really gone.”Mickey said, pulling Ian tighter against him as if he too needed to be grounded in physical contact. 

“I didn’t think it would get to me like this.”Ian replied, shifting so more of his body was against Mickey.He had expected to be indifferent or maybe angry, not hollow and heavy.

“He can’t hurt you anymore, though.”

Ian could hear the wish in Mickey’s words.He knew the smaller man wanted to be free from Terry and the fear of further retribution.Knowing what the Milkovich patriarch had done to Mickey and Mandy, Ian thought he would happily trade a few more years with Frank for Terry’s immediate, and preferably painful, demise.

A bubble of anger started to build.It popped when Mildred announced Fiona was at the door.

“I’ll be back.”Ian said climbing out of bed, immediately cold and sad again now that Mickey was not near him.


	49. No Weddings and a Funeral

The day was overcast and cold as fuck, Mickey thought as he gracelessly got out of the limo in front of the funeral home Fiona had chosen. 

Lots of people were already there, mingling outside smoking and talking, but they all stopped and stared at him like he was some sort of freak getting out of a black stretch limo.

The last time he had been at this funeral home he had been 17 years old, dirty and poor with no prospects, wearing gray cargos and a black Metallica tee shirt because it was all he had that was even vaguely appropriate for a funeral.

Today, he felt like he looked like a gangster in his black wool overcoat, gorgeous custom made black suit courtesy of Ian’s tailor, and black shirt and tie. Ian called it a gift.Mickey liked it so much he didn’t care how much it probably cost.If it weren’t for the leg brace and crutches he looked damn good and nothing like the lowlife thug these people remembered.

It felt fucking weird as hell, like he was _Pretty Woman_ or some shit.Especially since Ian had paid for it, but at the moment he could not care less about the money.

Ian came up next to him holding Frannie on his hip.To the inexperienced eye, Ian looked great.He was wearing a camel colored overcoat over a dark brown, almost black, three piece suit with a deep maroon shirt and tie.It was cut to perfection and he looked like he stepped out the pages of _GQ_ or something.Mickey, however, noticed the circles under his eyes and the parlor of his skin that made his freckles stand out more than usual.So far Ian was holding steady, but the struggle was obvious to Mickey.

Getting to Chicago had been a bit of a nail biter since Michelle, their DCFS case worker was not thrilled with the situation.In the end, as Mickey could have predicted, Ian was able to charm his way into permission to take Frannie to the funeral.They went with lots of instructions about allowable contact and the threat Chicago DCFS could be present to monitor the situation.

All that went out the window when Debbie burst out of the doors and ran toward them.The second Frannie saw her she started struggling to get out of Ian’s arms.He put her down and she ran into her mother’s hug, wailing like a banshee.Debbie was also crying.

Mickey swallowed around the lump in his throat. If the reunion was this dramatic, the separation to come was going to be super fun, not in a good way.

The rest of their party, Svetlana, Yevgeny, Mandy and Iggy got out of the limo behind them.Yevgeny took Mickey’s hand.It was his first funeral and though both Mickey and Svetlana had explained it to him, the little boy was still uncomfortable.

Mickey squeezed, but had to let go to use the crutches so they could get inside where it was warm.

Yevgeny stuck next to him like glue.

The funeral home was packed.It seemed like every Southsider alive had turned up for Frank’s funeral.Mickey presumed they were like him and would not believe Frank was dead until they saw him laid out in a casket.Some wouldn’t believe it even if they did see it with their own eyes.Many knew Frank had faked his death once before.Mickey figured Frank would become the Southside’s Elvis with vague stories of sightings and conspiracy theories shared over drinks at the Alibi for years to come.

Mickey paused by the entrance and shrugged out of his overcoat which he handed to an attendant. 

Ian was removing his overcoat when a scrum of Southsiders surrounded him.Ian had not been back to Chicago in four years.Some of the people around him wanted to congratulate him, most wanted to find a way to scam some money out of him.

Mickey had come for the express purpose of watching Ian’s back, but it was immediately clear it was his own back he should be worrying about.

It had been six years since he had seen any of his huge extended family in the Southside.He had hoped never to see them again when he moved to New York, but he had not wanted toabandon Ian to come to this circus alone.

There were tons of Milkoviches in the Southside, reproduction being the thing they were most successful at.There had been a few visits and a few commissary account deposits early in his prison stay but once Terry was locked up with him what little support he got from his family dried up. 

Mickey frowned.Intellectually, he got it.No Milkovich with a sense of self preservation wouldside with Terry’s hated faggot son.If Mickey had been in their shoes he probably would have done the same, but knowing that did nothing to quench the anger burning through him.

Terry was the oldest of his siblings and basically ran the family, which made it sound a lot more organized and well off than it was.It was just one big shit show of poverty and low to mid-level crime, but it was all any of them knew and the only thing they had to hang on to.

Beside him, Iggy heaved a sigh and chose to take one for the team.He made a beeline for the pack of cousins heading toward them. Razzing Iggy about his new hair cut and suit was enough to stop them for the moment, but Mickey knew his time would come.

“We never should have come.This is going to be a total shit show.”Mandy said, standing next to him and surveying the crowd.

“Fucking Frank.Even dead he’s a pain in the ass.”Mickey agreed.

“You know they’re going to tell dad all about us.”They had discussed this before they decided to come.Neither of them wanted to be on their father’s radar, but at the same time, both of them knew for as long as Terry lived they would never be free.Mandy sighed, “I just hope they see how much better life can be without Terry in it.”

“Doubt it.”Mickey quipped, looking over at his sister.

She looked incredible, like a chic upper east side New Yorker.Her hair was up in a twist that showed off the length of her neck and the sharp lines of her cheekbones and jaw.She was wearing a boatneck black dress that went to just below her knees.She had on a pair of Louboutin pumps Ian had given her for her birthday and even by gay older brother standards her legs looked amazing as she walked away to greet someone Mickey didn’t know.

As soon as she was gone Mickey noticed his uncle Tony approaching him. “Nephew, you look good.”

Tony was Terry’s younger brother and closest friend. No good would come from talking to him.Ignoring him was equally stupid though.“S’up.”

Tony looked Mickey up and down.“You’re really coming up in the world, aren’t you?Riding your boyfriend’s dick all the way to the billionaire boys club, huh?”

As much as he wanted to rise to the bait, Mickey bit his tongue.He wasn’t starting a fight at a funeral.Let them think what they wanted about his life.Fuck them.

Still, Mickey could not help but also point out what he was seeing which was a fuck ton of Milkoviches who looked poor, strung out and more than a little desperate.“Looks like same old, same old ‘round here.”

Tony drew himself up, ill fitting suit looking just as bad after Tony adjusted it as before.Mickey tugged on a French cuffed sleeve and flashed a silver skull and crossbones cufflink at his uncle.The disparity in their situations could not be more obvious.

Tony tapped at Mickey’s braced knee with his well worn shoe.It wasn’t enough to knock him over, but it hurt.“What happened to your knee?”

Mickey arched an eyebrow at his uncle pretty sure the old fuck could guess.

Then Tony was distracted by Mandy moving though the crowd.Though Vee, Svetlana and Fiona were giving her a run for her money, to Mickey she was the prettiest, most put together woman in the room.“Is that Mandy? Ho-ly fuck!”

Mandy was talking to Lip who even from a distance looked like he was dealing with an impressive hangover.

“She just graduated from college.”Mickey announced, proud as hell.He wanted to tell his uncle Mandy had done two years at community college and then finished her bachelors at fucking NYU, but screw him.Tony didn’t deserve details.

“You don’t say.”Tony replied, incredulous.Of course he wouldn’t believe what Mandy had accomplished.Where they came from, stories like hers were nothing but fairytales.“Bet she makes a killing selling that ass.Damn.”

Mickey bristled.“Don’t talk about her like that.”

“Or what?”Tony challenged, squaring up in front of Mickey.

Mickey’s first instinct was to throw down, but that was a losing proposition given his orthopedic situation.Maybe being injured was a good thing, because it made him stop to consider the consequences of a fight.He would get his ass beat for sure.He would also risk extortion since Tony would play victim to try and blackmail money out of Ian to avoid the cops being called.They all knew the result if that happened.Because his conviction had been over turned, the Southside cops hated him more than ever.If they got involved they would do everything possible to make sure he went down and the book was thrown at him.

Mickey wasn’t going to be bated into blackmail or a return to prison. Gritting his teeth he ground out, “Fuck off.”

“Pussy.”Tony yelled at his back as he hobbled away towards Svetlana and Yevgeny.They were talking to Kev and Vee.That was safer territory.

***

Mandy had never wanted a funeral to start so bad. She had thought coming back would be fun like it was in the movies when the high school reject showed up at the reunion looking like a million bucks and everyone was stunned and jealous.This was nothing like that. 

Being leered at was nothing new, but being leered at by family members was making her skin crawl.She had come with the intention of showing her cousins they didn’t have to live like they did.If she could get out so could they, but the bulk of them assumed she was just a high priced hooker.She had been a moderately priced one several years ago, but that was beside the point.

Her life was entirely different now.As much as she wanted to tell them all about what she had accomplished, she now realized the effort would not only be wasted but was potentially dangerous. Rather than try to rise with her, they would try to pull her back down. It killed her to hold her tongue, but it was better they believed the worst about her.

She just wanted the funeral to hurry up and start so they could be one step closer to being done with Chicago, probably forever after this.Why on earth would anyone want to come back and subject themselves to this again?

“Remember when you said you wanted to change your fucking name?”Mickey snarked coming up behind her.

She turned to look at him.He was just as stressed out as she was.She didn’t blame him.Coming here had been a mistake in every way except proving to herself she had made the right decision to leave.“I already filed.I’m just waiting for the approval.”

Mickey arched an eyebrow.“Oh, yeah?So who you gonna be now?”

“Mandalia Iliana Alexandrovich.”She replied, glaring down at him daring him to give her shit.

Instead he scratched the back of his head and asked, “Mandalia?I though you wanted to be Nadia or Nadege or some shit.”

“Nadege.That’s what mom wanted to name me, but too many people already know me as Mandy.” She had wanted to use the name her mother had chosen for her, but in the end that had not really been an option.She had already started building a reputation and those people knew her as Mandy.So instead, to honor her mother, Mandy took her mother’s name as her middle name.

Mickey stared into the crowd and Mandy’s gaze followed his to the group of Milkoviches huddled together staring back at them.They were jealous.They were angry.They were scheming to figure out how to take what Mickey and Mandy had gained.Were she still in their shoes she would probably be doing the same thing.

Without turning away from the staring contest he was having with their uncle Tony, Mickey asked, “Was it hard to do?”

“Not really. You need a copy of your birth certificate and then you fill out a couple forms and wait for the court to grant you the name change.After that you’re supposed to publish it, but I filed for an exemption due to family violence.It costs $250.” She shrugged, turning her back to the family she had left behind so she could watch Ian.He was another locus of attention and while most of it was needy with more than a hint of jealousy he seemed to be handling it pretty well.

The memorial was going to be at the Alibi and Ian planned to pay for an open bar.It was going to be one hell of a tab, but it was an appropriate send off for the Southside’s most legendary drunk.It also guaranteed Ian would leave a hero.

“I’m fucking doing it as soon as we get home.”Mickey told her, tearing his gaze away from Tony to look at her.

To Mandy it seemed stupid to do it now.“Why?You’ll just have to change it again when you get married.”

It was a nudge bordering on a shove, but Mickey needed pushing.

“Who the fuck says I have to take his name?”

Mandy had to control the smirk that wanted to spread over her face.So marriage _was_ something Mickey was thinking about.They were sharing a bed now and though she knew they weren’t fucking yet, it was only a matter of time. 

She teased, “Wouldn’t you rather be a Gallagher?”

Ian insisted Mickey was going to move back in with her at the end of February but one look at the two of them together was all it took to know that was bullshit.Mickey would talk a good game, but he would find an excuse not to leave in the end.In fact, Frannie looked like a pretty good one.Mickey might move into another room for a while, but he wouldn’t abandon the little ginger. 

“No.Come on, the viewing is finally starting.”

***

“He looks really yellow.Do people turn yellow when they’re dead?”

Mickey had gone with his son to view Frank in his casket.The funeral home had done what they could to make Frank look at peace, but the jaundiced yellow of his skin was tough to hide and still showed through the layers of makeup.“No.He’s yellow because he died of liver failure.”

“It’s weird.”Yevgeny said and he reached out like he was going to touch Frank’s face.

“Yeah.It is.” Mickey agreed as he grabbed his son’s hand and then made a shooing gesture to guide the boy back to their seats so the people behind them could have their chance to gawk at the remains of a Southside legend.The line was long, a testament to how shifty Frank had been.No one was going to believe he was dead unless they saw for themselves.

“What happens next?”Yevgeny asked as they sat down in the section reserved for family.Svetlana was already there.Ian was still at the back of the chapel, waiting for everyone else to view the body before he and the rest of Frank’s kids joined the procession.

Mickey leaned over and said, “Next, the priest talks for a while then we get back in the car and go to the cemetery to bury him.After that, we’re going to the Alibi for the memorial.”

“What’s a memorial?”Yevgeny asked.

“It’s where the dead person’s friends and family get together to eat, drink and tell tall tales about the guy who died.”Mickey had been to only a handful of funerals, but he had attended a ton of memorials mostly because he could usually drink for free.

“Tall tales?”

“Yeah, you know, lies that make the dead guy sound like he wasn’t a total asshole.”

“Papa!”Yevgeny scolded.

“I know, I know, but there _is_ no other word for Frank.”He was trying to watch his tongue but sometimes there just weren't any other words to adequately convey something. Like any discussion of Frank, for example.

“He was a bad man?”

“Yeah, kid, he was a very bad man.”Mickey wondered what the Gallagher kids might have accomplished if Frank hadn’t been there to fuck up everything for them each time they started to show signs of escaping from under his thumb.

All of them had a new chance at life now which he hoped like hell they took advantage of.Ian would move mountains for his siblings and without the fear Frank could swoop in and ruin it, there was nothing but their own fear to hold them back now.

“Why?”

“Those are stories for when you’re grown, Yev.”Probably not even then if he could avoid it.There was no need to burden Yevgeny with the past when the future was what mattered.

“Mama is mad.”

Mickey looked past his son to his ex-wife.“Yeah.”

Svetlana’s normal expression was a ‘don’t fuck with me’ resting bitch face.This was her much more frightening hammer face.Her blue eyes were glinting and her full, red lips were tight. She was moments away from beating someone to death, Mickey could tell.

Glancing around the room, Mickey realized that while she looked every inch the rich, powerful woman she was, to these men she was just an upstart hand whore.He imagined it was easier to look down on her and remember using her for their pleasure than to look up at all she had become.

Mickey felt a stab of guilt.It was her father who sold her as a sex slave, but Mickey had done nothing to help her. He had hated her for what had been done to him and punished her by holding her down under his boot heel, forcing her to support him on her back just like all the other men in her life had done.He had not understood at the time.He did now and it was a very shitty feeling.

He reached across his son, the beautiful fruit of their poisoned union, and took Svetlana’s hand.She glared at him, but did not pull her hand away.

There were many things he wanted to say all of a sudden.He wanted to tell her he had been wrong for blaming her.The gun pointing at him could just as easily have pointed at her.Ian’s horror at what they had done was not her fault any more than it was his.He should never have blamed her.He should never had used her.

The trajectory of his life had been predetermined and he had succumbed to it, unaware he could fight against it.Were it not for a predictable jaunt in prison with it’s unlikely saviors and forced opportunities, Mickey would not have the life he had now.

Svetlana’s life had been even more stacked against her, but she had overcome every obstacle thrown at her through sheer determination and the stubborn belief she was better than her circumstances.She had been right about that.

Maybe she could see the words he could not get past his teeth because after a long moment her eyes softened and she squeezed his hand, muttering something softly in Russian before she pulled away and turned to face forward once again.

Mick followed her lead though his gaze was in his lap.He had been wrong about so much.He had inflicted so much pain on other people.He did not deserve the life he had now and his anxiety started to rev up.

He pulled his pill box out of his pocket and popped an Ativan under his tongue.

“That guy said he’s my great uncle.”Yevgeny pointed to Tony who was watching them.“Why would he be a greater uncle than Uncle Iggy?”

Mickey put the pillbox back in his inside jacket pocket staring at his uncle.The elder Milkovich sneered.Mickey shifted in his seat, putting his back to Tony and blocking the man’s view of his son.Looking down at Yevgeny he tried to explain.“So, it’s not great like he’s better than Iggy.Great uncle just means he’s more distantly related.”

“Oh.So he’s my family, too?”

“Technically, yeah, but there are two kinds of family, Yev.There’s the family you choose and who choose you and there’s the family you were born into, your family by blood.Some people get lucky and their blood family they’re born into is also the family they choose.Ian’s family is like that.Then there’s people like your mom and me.Our birth families suck, so we had to go out and make a new one.”

“What about Aunt Mandy and Uncle Iggy?”Yevgeny asked because he knew they were Mickey’s siblings.

“They’re blood, but I chose them, sport, and they chose me.”It felt good to say that.He had done some shitty things to his ex-wife, but she was still sitting there with their son between them.She had forgiven him even if he had not quite managed to forgive himself yet. 

Yevgeny frowned.“So someday I have to chose my family?”

“Hope not.Maybe we’ll be the kind of family you don’t have to replace.”Mickey sure hoped they would be.

Yevgeny shook his head and smiled.“I’m good.”

Ian took his seat beside him and picked up his hand.The rest of the Gallaghers were also taking seats.Thank fucking God.They could finally get this shit show moving.

***

Mickey was on his third whiskey with a beer chaser.

The memorial had been going for over an hour already and Mickey was rapidly approachingmax capacity for bullshit.The only reason he had not killed anyone yet was because he was mildly buzzed and in some pretty major pain.The walk to and from the grave site had felt like five miles through waist deep snow.He had found a perch at the bar where he could rest his legs and he was not moving unless a fight broke out or he needed to pee, whichever came first.

Ian surfaced beside him.

Since the limo ride to the bar, it was the first time they had seen each other.Ian had been surrounded by different groups of people since they got there and had either negligently forgotten about Mickey or kindly left him out of it. It could go either way in Mickey’s opinion.

Ian had a beer in his hand and no longer looked like the calm, cool, collected business tycoon he had appeared to be earlier today.He looked tired, annoyed and one wrong word away from seriously unloading on someone.

Ian turned to say something when one of the Alibi barflies stumbled up to him and started telling him a Frank story.Mickey turned away.He had heard enough Frank stories now to last a life time.

It took a minute and a shot of Yeager to get Stan to go away, but the instant he did, Mickey turned to Ian and asked, “For fuck’s sake, can we go home now?”

“Flight isn’t until tomorrow.”Ian sighed, taking a swig of his beer.

“Move it up.”Mickey suggested, because he really did not want to stay here a minute longer than he had to.

“Already tried.”Ian replied.“No flights out tonight.”

“What the fuck?” Mickey exclaimed.He was sick of Chicago and Milkoviches and barflies and pretty much everything else on planet earth.“It’s not like it’s Christmas for fuck’s sake.Where are all these people going?”

“Nowhere.You did notice it’s snowing, right?It’s a blizzard out there.”

“Fuck.”Mickey groaned.If that was true, they could be here for days, not just overnight.Fuck his fucking life.

Raised voices caught his attention and he turned to look at an argument that was likely to turn into a brawl since his other uncle Alex was one of the combatants.Kevin had hired security for the night, but it didn’t seem likely the tall, scrawny guy weaving his way through the crowd was going to be able to do much if Alex got going.Mickey knew how hard his uncle’s fists were.

Ian sighed.“Fucking Southside.”

“Right?”Mickey agreed as he started strategizing how to get out on crutches through a full scale bar fight without getting hurt.

“You see those guys over there?”Ian nodded toward a pair of beefy looking guys in the corner who at a glance appeared to be minding their own business, but were really acutely aware of the rumble brewing.They had been at the viewing and the grave side as well.

“Yeah.”

“Private security.The ex-military, tactical kind.”Ian told him.

Mickey had assumed that as soon as he had noticed them at the funeral home.He didn’t know them from the neighborhood so they were either long lost family to someone or hired muscle.He had also assumed Svetlana was responsible for them being there.He had not known Ian was aware of them, but wasn’t terribly surprised to discover he was.“Huh.”

“And don’t turn around now, but there’s a guy at your six wearing tortoise shell glasses.I’m 99 percent sure he’s also security.”Ian told him.“Svetlana thinks I don’t know, but I always have a tail.Insurance required it.”

Mickey had also clocked that guy at the service.Unlike the beefcakes, who stood out only because they had no neighborhood history, this guy had not done as good a job blending in.His suit was too nice and his demeanor was way too calm.

More to the point was the fact Ian knew Svetlana had gone behind his back and didn’t seem to care.Mickey stared at Ian trying to read him.“That’s interesting.”

Ian offered a wry smile.“With family like yours I didn’t want to take any chances. There’s two more guys outside also.”

“Smart.”Mickey said, hoping all of the security guys were armed.The argument was settling down again, Mickey’s aunt Anna having talked Alex into another beer.He was still heated though so it was only a matter of time before he found an excuse to start an actual fight.It was the typical ending to Southside parties where Milkoviches were in attendance.

Mickey turned his back on his uncle and his attention back to his drink.Ian sat beside him, quietly sipping at his beer as if just being near each other was soothing enough to not require words.Mickey was glad they were able to be silent because he was all talked out.

A girl he remembered vaguely from high school was staring at them.Mickey recalled her as one of Mandy’s pushier friends. She had also been gold digging, always trying for the next better deal and thus going through boyfriends at the speed of an AK-47 on full auto.

Ian had been flirted with all day long by girls who refused to believe he was gay.This girl was going to make the same play.Mickey sighed.He was sick of this shit.

Ian noticed, saw the blonde and made a face.Then he announced, “I’m going to kiss you.”

Mickey had never been into PDA, but with all the security around, if it would back the women off his man he was willing to take a chance.“Well hell, Gallagher.I’m gonna let you.”

Ian leaned over and kissed him.It was small and a little timid, like Ian was remembering how unwilling Mickey had been in the past and didn’t want to push him.Mickey put a hand on Ian’s neck and pulled him in.The next kiss was deeper and more intense.There was something thrilling about having an audience of Milkovich homophobes.He could feel the outrage building and Mickey gloried in the defiance of forcing them to watch something that disgusted them.Fuck all of these judgmental, sanctimonious assholes.

Ian finally pulled away, resting his forehead against Mickey’s.His voice was very quiet when he said, “Fuck all of them.”

Mickey was about to agree when Svetlana interrupted by saying, “The natives grow restless.We leave now.”

“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.”Mickey replied glancing around the bar and taking note of who looked upset to have had a public display of gay love infiltrate their bigot bubble.Most of them were Milkoviches, surprise, surprise.

“I will not come back here again.”Svetlana told them.

“Weddings and funerals only if we have to.”Ian agreed as he pulled his phone out and texted for the car service to pick them up.

“Terry’s funeral.”Mickey said, because he wanted to piss in the casket before they closed the lid on the monster who was his father.

“So, I guess we’ll head to the house now.” Ian said, taking a final pull from his beer before pushing the empty bottle away.He looked around the bar and belched before observing, “I think Lip has already ducked out.”

“Mandy’s missing, too.”Mickey replied as he scanned the room for his family.

“She’ll deny it if you ask her, but she still has a thing for him.”Ian told him as if this was something Mickey was unaware of.

“I know.” Mickey agreed.Lip was her first love.Mandy had a big heart and she didn’t give up on people easily.She would probably always have a soft spot for the blonde.The two of them together was not what worried Mickey.He was more concerned maybe they weren’t together. “If she’s not at the house with him, we need to track her down.”

“Iggy wishes to stay with us.I tell him this is okay.”Svetlana interrupted again.

“Cool.”Mickey said, brushing her off.He was more concerned about his sister than his brother.

“I get suite at the Langham.Mandy and Iggy get bedrooms, but there is still fold out couch.If you need place to stay, text me.”She told them.She looked tired and irritated.

“We’re staying with Fiona.”Ian reminded her.

“Just in case.”She said over her shoulder as she walked away to collect Yevgeny from the Ball children.

Ian turned back to Mickey.“Mandy will be with Lip.I’m not worried about her.”

“Then you weren’t paying attention.”Mickey had seen the way eyes had followed Mandy around the room.He had taken note of the leering and the whispering.He had no doubt Mandy could defend herself, but he did not want her in a situation where she would have to.

“I was.”Ian disagreed.He put a reassuring hand over Mickey’s.“She has a tail.”

“Oh.”Mickey should have known.Ian wasn’t stupid nor was he an inconsiderate friend.He would make sure everyone was safe if it was in his power to control.Mandy was his best friend.No way he would leave her unprotected.

They got up and started heading to the door to collect their coats.As Mickey was shrugging into his, Ian was talking to Fiona probably getting a key or a code for the locks.

When Ian walked back over Mickey handed him his coat, surprised neither had been stolen.“So, there’s the next super fun part of this.”

Ian gestured over to Debbie and Frannie.The little girl had been glued to Debbie since she darted out of Ian’s arms that morning.She burst into tears every time Debbie tried to put her down.

“Oh yeah, super fun.”It would be much harder on all of them this time to separate Frannie from her mom.

“I talked to the lawyer.”Ian said as Mickey hobbled his way through the door Ian held open for him.

The snow was coming down thick and heavy.As they waited for the car to arrive Mickey pulled his scarf tighter around his neck and got his gloves on.It was fucking cold.“And?”

“And my sister’s not a total idiot.She didn’t name him on the birth certificate.”Ian was also putting on his gloves.

“Only because she was pissed at him that nano second.”Mickey replied, breath puffing out in a white cloud.It got cold in New York, but not like this.Chicago cold was some next level shit.

“Probably.”Ian moved closer to him so they could share some body heat.“Anyway, he’s currently deployed and has never paid a dime in child support.”

“Army?”Mickey asked, wondering how Ian felt about that since his childhood dream had been military service.Any talk of the military always made Mickey uncomfortable worrying about the ginger idiot.

“Air Force.”

“Huh.”Mickey grunted.The exact branch didn’t matter.If the guy had court ordered child support payments the military would make sure it was paid, so Mickey was betting Debbie had never legally gone after him for cash and he had to wonder why.

“The grandmother and aunt have tried multiple times to get custody so as soon as they hear about this it’s going to be game on.”Ian informed him as the car they were looking for pulled up.

“Okay.”Mickey said, if they had tried before they would go apeshit over a chance like this.He climbed into the warm heaven of the back seat.

“The lawyer is drawing up papers.”Ian told him as he settled into the seat beside him.

“The fuck does that mean?”Mickey asked, clipping his seatbelt and sinking into the heated leather seat, instantly sleepy.The effort to be upright and what passed for pleasant for so long had drained him.

“It means if they try to take her from us, I will bring down the hammer of god on them.”

Mickey chuckled.“Slow down there, Thor.The father has rights here, too.”

“Not if he’s never even seen her.He’s had nothing to do with his daughter for _four_ years.”Ian protested.

While those might be valid points, Mickey could not help framing things in his own context. He had been this guy. “Are you fucking serious?After all the shit you did to make sure Svet didn’t cut me out of Yev’s life you’re gonna just fuck Frannie’s dad over?”

“It’s different.”Ian replied, chin coming up.

“No, it’s not.”It was exactly the same.Ian couldn’t see it because he had not lived it.

“He was trapped into fatherhood as a kid. He never wanted this.” Ian argued.

Mickey stared at him with an arched eyebrow.

Ian caved, chin coming down.His body language changed from defensive to sad in an instant.“He ran away to Florida.You stayed.”

“Like I had a choice.”Mickey had run away as far as he could which had been all the way to Ian’s house.It was a distance of a couple city blocks.Then he had been stuck in prison watching his son grow up in glimpses through bulletproof glass.“And shit changes.Back then I wanted fuck all to do with my kid.Six years later and I’d take a bullet for him.”

“You’ve got some experience with that.”Ian teased, brushing Mickey’s thigh with his fingers.

Mickey chuckled and knocked Ian’s hand away.“Fuck you, Gallagher.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So next stop: the new old Gallagher house.
> 
> On a personal note - the new job ROCKS so far. The hospital culture is amazing and everyone has nothing but nice things to say about each other and the leadership team. I feel very lucky right now. :)
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	50. Going Home

“So...this is different.”Mickey said standing in the middle of the living room of the North Wallace house which felt weird and surreal.It was laid out the same, but it looked like a new house.It also smelled like a new house.The air was full of the scent of lemons, not the vomit, stale beer, pot combination he remembered.

“Yeah.”Ian breathed, looking around with wide green eyes.“We fixed it up.”

“You don’t say.”Mickey deadpanned.The color scheme was largely the same; polished hardwood floors, warm yellow walls, all new furniture in jewel tones.The TV was mounted over the fireplace now instead of in the corner.The old closet door that had messily tracked the Gallaghers’ heights as they grew up had been framed and hung on the wall as art.

Mickey hobbled through the living room, then the dining room noting the new table that seated ten and into the kitchen in search of a beer.

The kitchen was laid out the same as it had always been but it was all brand new; new cabinets, new appliances, a farmhouse sink, granite counter tops.At the kitchen table, Lip and Mandy were talking. They stopped when he hobbled in.Mandy took a sip of her wine while Lip acknowledged him with a nod. “Hey.”

“Like what you’ve done with the place.”Mickey said, opening the door to the stainless steel fridge and grabbed one of the Old Style bottles that was next to the box wine.At least some things were still the same.

“Yeah.Fiona wanted to upgrade everything but also try to make it still feel like the old house.”Lip told him with an ironic smile.

“Epic fail then.”Mickey said, pulling out a chair at the new kitchen table.The house was entirely new with only a ghost of what it had been hanging in the air.“This is fucking weird.”

“Definitely.”Lip agreed with a smirk.“Had enough of the free booze and family?”

“Oh yeah.”Mickey was not coming back to Chicago unless it was to bury Terry.Otherwise, he was steering clear of the Midwest.It was now officially flyover country to him.

“I still can’t believe he’s dead and I watched him take his last breath.”Lip said, finishing his beer and getting up to get another one.

“Is that why you looked in the coffin before they got it out of the hearse?”Mickey asked.He had thought that was weird, but now he understood.He would feel the same way if it were Terry.He would need eyes on Terry all the way from funeral home to grave.He wanted the coffin encased in cement just to make sure the fucker couldn’t come back from the dead or some shit.

“Yeah.We faked his death pretty convincingly back in the day.Didn’t want a repeat.”Lip sat back down.

“You okay?”Mandy asked Mickey, reaching across the table to put a hand on his arm.

Mickey was in pain and wanted to go lay down, but he was in no mood to admit it.Showing weakness in front of Lip was anathema to him.“Yeah.I’m good.”

“Where did Ian go?”She asked.

Mickey shrugged.Ian had not been back to this house since before the restoration.If it felt weird to him, he could only imagine how weird it felt to Ian.“Probably upstairs looking around.Fiona said we have Carl’s room for the night.”

“Yeah, he’s bunking with Liam in their old room.”Lip informed them.“We’re trying to keep Kassidi from staying.”

Mickey had seen the irritating blonde at the viewing and the memorial.He had also noticed Carl had seemed a lot less pussy whipped than he had at Christmas.As a result, she was even more clingy than usual.Mickey snorted.“Good luck with that.”

Lip sneered. “Would you believe she followed him to school?She has a camp set up in the woods near the training field.He’s finally had enough, but giving a girl like that the slip is no joke.”

“No shit.It’s tough to shake off crazy.”He had watched his siblings, especially Mandy, go through some very nasty breakups.

“Especially when you don’t really want to.”Mandy admonished because Ian was standing on the stairs and heard them.

Mickey shrugged, not caring if he was overheard or not.Ian’s brand of crazy was very different from Kassidi’s entitled, insecure, over possessive psycho kind.Someone kicked his shin which jarred his knee and hurt like a son of a bitch.Glaring at Lip and Mandy he amended, “Well, there’s crazy and then there’s psycho.That bitch is psycho.”

Ian went to the fridge and pulled out a carton of orange juice.The glasses were in the same cupboard they had been in his entire life.As Mickey suspected, he looked a little freaked out.

As Ian poured himself a glass the front door slammed and Fiona called, “Hey, Gallaghers.”

She walked into the kitchen with Liam behind her.Unlike the rest of them she seemed perfectly at home in her new old house.Ian sat down beside Mickey and asked, “Join us?”

“Thanks.” She slumped into a seat.“Jesus, what a day.”

“I’m going to bed.”Liam said heading straight up the stairs without looking at anyone.

Fiona called after him, “Okay, honeybuns.Sleep tight!”

“He okay?”Mandy asked.Liam was a quiet kid most of the time, but he had said almost nothing today that Mickey heard.

“I think he’s actually sad.Frank’s relationship with him was different.”Lip told her.

“Yeah.Liam never expected much from Frank.The bar was already set so low, Frank never really disappointed him.”Ian added.

Fiona nodded.“And he seemed to try a little harder for Liam.”

“Probably because Liam expected him to be worthless.It fucked with his view of himself.”Lip said.

Mickey wondered how it could be that a shit stain like Frank could ever think he was a good father or even a passable one.It must have been a product of his narcissism that he had no ability to see the pain he inflicted on the people around him.

“Are you still planning to go back to New York tomorrow?”Fiona asked, getting up and getting herself a beer.

“Weather permitting, yeah.Flight leaves at three.”Ian told her.He looked exhausted.Mickey checked his watch and realized it was nearing the witching hour when Ian would need to get to bed.He took a chug from his beer and considered whether or not he needed to pee now or if waiting a little while longer would reduce the need to get up in the middle of the night.

“At least that gives Debbie a little more time.”Fiona said, offering that no lip smile she sometimes gave when she was concerned about something she had no hope of controlling.

“Jesus, is that going to be a shit show.”Mickey muttered.Debbie was a handful under normal circumstances.She was a fucking nightmare when she was upset.Taking Frannie back was going to suck massive whale balls.

“Not looking forward to it at all.”Ian agreed, suddenly looking haggard and Mickey felt like he was getting a glimpse of what Ian would look like in middle age. He was still hot as fuck in Mickey’s opinion but he hated seeing Ian look so tired.It made him nervous a mood swing might follow.

“I hope you’re flying private.She’s going to scream her head off.”Fiona said with a grimace.

Mickey wasn’t sure which one she was talking about, but it was probably both.Frannie had Gallagher blood which meant crazy was par for the course.Given that he had recently learned her paternal relatives had kidnapped her when she was still an infant, Frannie’s father’s family wasn’t exactly sane either.That little ginger got a double dose and was bound to be a handful.

“Yeah, we are.” Ian agreed.Mickey had never been in a plane before and it had been awesome in a way that spoils a man for life.

“Has she said what she plans to do?”Mandy asked just as the front door opened again.

Debbie stormed into the kitchen, a sleeping Frannie slung over her shoulder, moving with such purpose it made Mickey want to get out of her way.His suspicion she was also mentally ill increased.There was just something off about her and it was less kind hearted than Ian’s version.She grabbed a beer out of the fridge and then began marching up the stairs telling the group, “I’m going to put Frannie down.”

As Debbie disappeared up the stairs Fiona shook her head.“She’s still all over the place.She’s snarling mad one second and sobbing the next.”

“We’re going to have to talk about it, but it can wait until tomorrow.”Ian said as Debbie’s feet appeared again on the stairs.

Debbie joined them, grabbing a beer from the fridge and slumping into a chair.“I am so tired.”

“We should all head to bed soon.”Mickey announced because he did not have the energy to deal with Debbie any more today.It was bad enough he would have to do it tomorrow.

“It still feels unreal.Like, I just came from Frank’s funeral.I watched him go into the ground, but I can’t quite accept that he’s dead.”Debbie said, ignoring Mickey in favor of continuing the memorial they had all skipped out on.

“I keep thinking about that time we knocked him out with enough horse tranquilizer to bring down an elephant, iced him up and held a fake funeral for him right out there.”Lip said, gesturing toward the living room.

“Who was he running from again?”Mickey asked because that was a broad category.Lots of people had reason to be coming after Frank.It made him wonder how many of those people had tried to come after Ian as an extension of Frank.

“He scammed some meth dealer.”Lip told him with a roll of the eyes.

“Fucking Frank.”Fiona, Ian and Debbie all said together making Mickey very aware it was the Gallagher family mantra and likely would be for years to come.Legacies like Frank’s were not easily forgotten.

“People were talking about his fake memorial today, too.Not many people die twice.”Ian added.

“Just Jesus.”Mickey snarked, remembering Gemma or maybe it was Amy telling him that over Christmas.

It earn him a chuckle.

“Saint Francis of the Southside.”Lip joked, knocking back the rest of his beer and getting up for another one.

There was a long moment of silence and then Lip said, “So we’re officially orphans, well all of us except Ian.”

Ian snorted.“You mean the sperm donor I only hear from when he needs money?Aren’t I lucky.”

“Can we just make a pact that none of us, no matter what, follow in Frank’s footsteps?”Fiona asked. 

Mickey looked around the table, shades of Frank evident in all of his children but most of all in Lip.He had inherited the intellect, the gift of gab and the alcoholism. 

Then again, if he could overcome Terry’s legacy, maybe Lip could overcome Frank’s.

***

Mickey was staring at the queen size bed they were going to sleep in.Ian could see the hunch in the brunet’s shoulders from the hallway and knew Mickey was not too happy about how much smaller this bed was than the one they shared in New York.

Trying to make light of the situation, Ian joked, “At least it’s not a twin.”

Mickey turned to look at him, offering a weak lopsided grin.

“You’re not okay with this, are you?”Ian asked as he shut the door.He would sleep on the floor if Mickey asked him to.Mickey was going to have to ask though.He wasn’t going to offer.

“No. It’s okay.” Mickey said after a moment of deliberation.He tugged at his tie and pulled it off his neck.As he began unbuttoning his shirt, he started to say something but trailed off.“I just...”

Ian hated how vulnerable Mickey looked and well aware his back would hate him for it, blurted, “I’ll sleep on the floor if you want.”

“No.”Mickey answered, glancing up at Ian before he resumed unbuttoning his shirt.“No.I don’t want.”

“Okay.”Ian grinned, kicking off his shoes.

Mickey stripped out of his pants and started to work on his socks, using the grabber tool Ian had bought months ago.Ian wanted to help, but Mickey hated it when Ian made him feel helpless so Ian just kept undressing ignoring the struggle.

Once he was down to undershirt, boxers and knee brace Mickey climbed into the bed on the side closest to the door.Ian smiled to himself.From the first time they slept together Mickey always slept on the side by the door.Ian knew it was because of the two of them Mickey thought of himself as the tough one.He had always thought it was sweet how Mickey wanted to protect him, not that he would ever say it.It would just piss Mickey off.

He had to climb over Mickey to get to his side.The coil that used to dig into his back when he slept in this room was gone.The mattress was new.It was weird.Everything about this trip was weird.

Mickey turned out the light.

There was some jostling as both of them tried to settle in.Mickey was facing the door, Ian was facing his back.It was warm in the house in a way it never had been before.The furnace was new and the triple pane windows did a much better job holding in the heat than the old single pane ones had done.It was also fucking quiet.It didn’t feel like the home he grew up in.It was some sort of upside down, through the looking glass version that was fucking with him.

“This house is fucking with me.”Mickey muttered.

“Me too.”Ian agreed, glad he wasn’t the only one who felt that way.“It’s so weird how it’s the house but not the house, you know?”

Mickey grunted in response and burrowed deeper into the covers. 

Ian knew Mickey had to be exhausted.He had done a lot more walking than either of them had thought he would have to do and had to be in more pain than he was letting on.Mickey didn’t like appearing weak so he would pretend he was fine even when he wasn’t which made it hard to tell sometimes how bad things were.

Mickey had also done a lot more socializing than he liked.He preferred to be a wallflower, present but ignored unless he wanted to be noticed.Where Ian was extroverted and energized being with people, Mickey was the exact opposite needing alone time to muster up the energy to deal with humanity.That he had managed to not be a snarky asshole for most of the day was something of a miracle.

Feeling grateful, Ian reached out and put a hand on Mickey’s shoulder.“Thank you for coming with me.I know you didn’t want to, so thanks.”

“Whatever, fire crotch.”Mickey replied. 

Ian found himself smiling again.Mickey was much more comfortable with criticism than praise.He let his hand drift down between Mickey’s shoulder blades and then shifted closer so he could kiss the back of Mickey’s neck.

The smaller man turned his head.Ian knew an invitation when he saw one.He leaned over and kissed Mickey.It wasn’t much as kisses go, but it seemed to satisfy Mickey because he turned away and settled back into the bed.

Ian rolled over onto his back and put his hands behind his head.His medication induced stupor had set in, but there was an underlying buzz keeping him awake.He hoped it was just the weirdness of the day rather than an oncoming bout of mania. To distract himself he said, “Hope the weather clears so we can get out tomorrow.”

Mickey didn’t immediately answer.When he did he said, “We fucked in here.”

Ian was surprised by the sudden shift in gears, but it sort of made sense.Neither of them had been here in a long time and it was dredging up memories for Ian too.Now he was thinking about it, “We fucked all over this house.”

“I remember.” Mickey agreed and Ian was listening hard for any sort of weirdness in the smaller man’s voice, but he just sounded nostalgic, neither inviting nor freaked out.“Feels like a lifetime ago.”

To Ian it felt like yesterday, but saying so would not be helpful.Instead he wrapped a loose arm around Mickey’s chest and sighed when Mickey did not push him away.He smiled when Mickey let his arm rest over top of Ian’s and clasped his hand.

The buzzing sensation faded and sleep took hold. 

He was out like a light when Mickey gently pushed him onto his back so they were no longer touching.

***

“It’s not fair!She’s my daughter.She belongs with me!”

These were the muffled words Mickey woke up to.

He turned to look over his shoulder.Ian was gone.A glance at his watch and he knew the redhead was out for his usual morning run, which was probably just a walk since it was cold as fuck and there had been a blizzard last night.Hopefully he was being trailed by his security guard because someone in this neighborhood had to have thought of kidnapping the ginger idiot and holding him for ransom.

The upstairs bathroom was occupied when he tried it, so he slowly stumped his way down the stairs for the half bath in the kitchen. 

When he got there Fiona was trying to reason with her sister.“Debs, please don’t make this harder than it has to be.If you’re upset Frannie is going to be beside herself.”

Mickey walked into the toilet rolling his eyes.Debbie did not have an off switch.As if to prove his point she shouted, “This is bullshit!”

“Jesus.Keep it down.Do you want to wake up the whole house?”Fiona attempted to hush her. 

Too late, Mickey thought, hearing movement above him.He shook off, washed his hands and opened the door to brave whatever bullshit Debbie would throw at him.He went straight to where the coffee pot used to be only to find a Keurig.He looked around for the pods and was unhappy to find they only had the plastic ones.At Ian’s house they had the biodegradable kind.

As his coffee brewed and the girls continued to argue, he wondered at how little time it had taken for him to turn into a total pussy worrying about the environment and non recyclable plastic. 

“I just want my daughter with me.”Debbie whined, apparently done being angry and now feeling sorry for herself.Mickey rolled his eyes again.Fucking Gallaghers.

“We know, Debs, but DCFS isn’t going to just hand her back to you.You need a plan.”Fiona said for what Mickey assumed was likely the 50th time.Debbie was like a blender on pulse.She could shred you over and over again until someone unplugged her.

“I know.”Debbie said, flopping into the chair next to Mickey with a dramatic sigh.“Fuck, I know.”

Fiona’s eyes met his for a second.Mickey interpreted the look to mean shut up and let me handle this.He leaned back in his chair and flicked a hand at the eldest Gallagher.He was more than happy to stay out of it.Fiona nodded and turned her attention back to her younger sister.“You need to start planning your move to New York.”

“I can’t move to New York.”Debbie said immediately as if it were already a done deal.

“Why not?”Mickey asked, trying to keep the sneer off his face.If it were Yevgeny he would move to Siberia if that was what it took to be near his son. 

Debbie glared at him like he was stupid.“Well, I don’t have a job.Even if I did find a job, not easy by the way for a female welder, I still couldn’t afford to live there.New York makes Chicago look cheap.”

True, but it was insane to think she would have to do it alone.“Ian...”

“Can fuck off.”Debbie snapped.

“...will help you if you let him.”Mickey finished.Her lack of gratitude was pissing him off.They were being forced to take care of her daughter and she wouldn’t sacrifice her pride enough to move to the same city as her kid? 

“I’m doing just fine here.”She said, stubborn chin jutting out like Ian’s when he was being an asshole. 

Mickey was about to let her have it with both barrels, when Fiona stepped in.“Define fine.You have a job but you still can’t afford to live on your own.You barely keep up your end of the bills.”

“Childcare is expensive!”Debbie exploded, jumping up from her seat and started to pace.

Fiona also stood, fists on hips doing her disappointed mom routine.“I know, Debbie, trust me.My point is, your life doesn’t have to be like this.Move to New York. Let Ian help you like he’s helping Lip.Go to college.Get a real job...”

“Fuck you, Fiona!Welding is a real job!”Debbie yelled and stomped up the stairs.

“So that went well.”Mickey deadpanned. 

“That was a lot of yelling.”Ian said as he trotted in from the living room smelling like winter cold.

“It’s like talking to a wall.”Fiona agreed running a tired hand down her face.

“Why won’t she let me help her?”Ian asked for what had to be the hundredth time.

Probably because she had heard him, Debbie came barreling down the stairs and straight up to Ian.“I’m a strong, independent woman.I don’t need a man’s help.”

“Okay.”Ian said throwing his hands up in surrender.“But Frannie does.And she needs her mom.If you stay in Chicago how are you going to make your visitation?”

“FaceTime.”Debbie said, chin raised, daring them to disagree with her.

“Wow.”Mickey snorted, unable to contain his disdain.

Ian’s chin also came up, the sweet, generous version of the man Mickey loved giving way to the stubborn, my way or the highway version Mickey tried to avoid.“So you’d rather leave your daughter with Mickey and me than admit you need help?”

“I don’t need your help.I’ll find a way to get to New York.On my own.”She shot back.

Fiona, who had far more experience with Gallagher family feuds than Mickey did, attempted to tone it down saying, “Debbie, what if you let Ian help you get on your feet and you pay him back?”

“No.”Debbie refused. “I have some savings.I’ll make it work.”

“That is the dumbest fucking thing I have ever heard.” Mickey exclaimed, no longer able to contain himself.“Remember when I said you were a good mom?I take it back.If your pride is more important than being near your kid, then fuck you Debbie Gallagher.You deserved to have your kid taken.”

“Mickey!”Fiona and Ian both turned on him.

“What?This is bullshit.All of you know it.I’m just the only one with the balls to say it.”Mickey snapped back, angry beyond words to be saddled with someone else’s problem and have them be so ungrateful.

“How dare you!”Debbie snarled taking two steps towards him as if she planned to hit him.Before she could Fiona grabbed her arm and stopped her.

Mickey would have taken the punch and slapped her back were it not for the intervention.“Be a mom to your fucking kid.”

Debbie tried to shrug off Fiona’s grip.“Says the absentee father who just turned up!”

That stung, but, “I was in fucking prison taking one for the team.”

“Hey, hey.Let’s take this down a few notches.” Lip said trotting down the stairs with a sheepish looking Mandy behind him.Clearly they had spent the night together.

Mandy shot a look at Mickey that clearly said ‘don’t start’ and then defended her brother.“Both of you made some mistakes, but neither of you are bad parents.Frannie and Yev are lucky to have you guys.”

“The reality is, you do need help, Debs, because Frannie needs to see her mom.You have to be where she is if you want to get her back.”Lip said as he made a beeline for the Keurig.

“I can do it on my own.”She growled back at him.

No one said anything for a moment because what was the point of engaging in a circular argument, but even knowing this, Mickey couldn’t let it go.“Do you even want her back?I mean, that’s really the question, isn’t it?Are you going to suck it up and do what you have to do to get her back? Or are your ‘principles’ more important than your daughter?”

“Fuck you, Mickey!”

“This isn’t helping.”Fiona sighed.“We need to be focusing on Frannie.Is there anything you want them to take back that will make Frannie more comfortable?”

“She’s not staying with _him_!”Debbie shouted, pointing an angry finger at Mickey.

Ian was quiet for a moment and then his chin dropped a fraction.The rigidity in his posture melted and he shrugged.“Then when we get back I’ll let DCFS know they have to place her with someone else.”

“Wait, what?”Debbie choked out.“You can’t do that!”

“I don’t want to do that, but Mickey is my priority.If you insist he can’t be part of this, then I’m going to have to decline being Frannie’s guardian.”Ian said and Mickey had the very odd sensation of feeling elated and guilty at the same time.It was great to be the priority, but it felt like shit to have it be at the cost of a child’s welfare.“I’m sure her father’s family would love to take her if you really don’t want us to.”

That was the other option, which apparently Debbie had been choosing to ignore.She flapped in an angry circle for a moment before she glared directly at Mickey and declared, “You’re both assholes.”

Mickey wasn’t having it.“We’re people doing you a huge, life altering, option limiting favor.” 

“For fuck sake, I think you’ve made your point, Mickey.”Mandy said.“We get it.”

Fiona was still trying to be the adult in the room.“The fact is, Ian and Mickey _are_ doing you a huge favor taking her in.Let’s try to make this as easy as we can on all three of them, okay?”

“It’s not fair.”Debbie said, bursting into tears and collapsing against Lip.

“That little girl deserves the world and it’s your job, not theirs, to give it to her.”Lip said, rubbing Debbie’s back in soothing circles that belied the acid in his words.“We had a shitty mom so we know how it feels to be abandoned.Do not put that hurt on your daughter.Be better than Monica.”

“I’m not Monica!”She cried, pushing out of her brother’s arms, running up the stairs, slamming her bedroom door.Frannie started hollering immediately after.

Mickey went back to the Keurig. It was going to be a very long, very hard day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Debbie is by far my least favorite Shameless character, no slight against the actress who does a great job with a self centered (narcissistic a la Frank) character. 
> 
> The show gave us hints she could do something like this so to me it is very in character for her.


	51. Two Men and a Little Lady

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All I know about family law comes from being a CASA (Court Appointed Special Advocate for a Child) for one child several years ago. Being a CASA was a blessing, but it was also heart breaking & eye opening. Because I’m a nurse I got a medical neglect case. I cannot adequately explain how hard it was. I’m still in touch with the child & though she is safe now, I’m still enraged by what she went through & continues to go through as a result.
> 
> In so many ways this story is me working through my own shit. Just getting these things out there in a safe, fictional space has been cathartic. Having a comment section filled with thoughtful critique & discussions of your own perceptions & experiences has been truly rewarding. Thank you so much for continuing to engage with me.

Surprising no one, Frannie went ballistic at the airport when Lip pried her out of Debbie’s arms and handed her over to Ian.

They had decided Ian would be the one who took her since a small sort of bond had begun to form between the little ginger and Mickey.She needed to trust someone and she had chosen Mickey so for now, Ian would be the bad guy.

Svetlana had offered, but Ian thought it was better she not be involved.He didn’t want Frannie to think of the family she didn’t see as often as enemies. He reasoned because she saw him every day she would eventually have to forgive him.

It was horrible watching Frannie thrashing to get out of Ian’s arms as Debbie failed to make the situation any easier by breaking down herself.

Mickey was livid at the entire situation and stomped onto the jet, took his seat and glared out the window at the group of Gallaghers gathered around Debbie trying to get her to calm down and help her daughter cope with the trauma of being separated from her.

Frannie was hysterical when Ian carried her on board.He was bouncing her gently in his arms as he walked past Mickey.There were tears in his eyes and he sniffled.“I don’t know if I can handle this.”

Mickey didn’t think Ian could handle it either if it stayed this hard. 

“What’s wrong with her?”Yevgeny asked as he buckled himself into the seat facing Mickey’s.

“She misses her mama, Yev.”Mickey said as Ian passed by them again, pacing the aisle.

“Why does she have to come with us?”Yevgeny asked, clearly not thrilled by the caterwauling happening behind him.

“Because she’s gonna live with Ian while her mom sorts herself out.”

“I wish she’d stop screaming.”

“Me, too.”Mickey agreed.

The little girl finally cried herself to sleep just before they landed in New York.They said their goodbyes and Mandy and Iggy caught the subway back to Brooklyn and Svetlana and Yevgeny got a town car back to the Upper East Side. 

When they finally made it back to Ian’s brownstone, Mickey was exhausted.Listening to a child scream for hours had sucked the life right out of him.Her pain was so visceral it hit him straight in the heart reminding him of his own childhood trauma. 

“I’m going to put her to bed.”Ian said softly as the driver deposited their things inside the doorway and left.It was not even six o’clock, but maybe she would sleep through.Mickey hoped she would.

“Yeah.Okay.I’m going to see about dinner.”Mickey said as they got into the elevator and he hit the button for the second floor.Ian hit the button for the fourth. 

“We can order in if it’s easier.”Ian offered.

“No. I think I’d rather cook.”Mickey replied.He felt antsy and on edge.Cooking, specifically making bread, helped alleviate those feelings.“It’s sort of therapeutic at this point.”

The door dinged open and Mickey stepped out thinking he would make a real easy pasta dish.

“This is going to get easier.”Ian said, sounding like he was trying to convince himself too.

Mickey was pretty sure it would get much harder before it got better and that better was still going to be pretty shitty.“If you say so.”

“Please, Mickey.”Ian pleaded, shifting Frannie’s weight in his arms as he held the elevator door open when it tried to close.

“I’m trying, alright?”Mickey responded, feeling defensive.He didn’t want to fight, but he also did not feel like masking his feelings about the self imposed misery Ian had brought upon them.Mickey had thought about it a lot and there was no way this ended well for either of them.He knew what mattered most was how it ended for Frannie, but fuck was it going to hurt in the mean time.

“I know.I love you.”Ian offered him a weak smile and soulful green eyes as the elevator door closed. “Back in a second.”

Mickey stumped into the kitchen and pulled open the fridge.He had the basics for the campellini pomodoro he wanted to make. 

He pulled out the ingredients to make the pasta and got to work.

***

Ian entered the kitchen to find Mickey with his sleeves rolled up kneading pasta dough.It was sort of amazing he knew that was what Mickey was doing, but this was their life now.

Frannie was sleeping, which was a gift.When he had tried to put her in bed she had awoken and cried a little more as he got her into her pajamas.He had been forced to tell her a bedtime story (he was going to order a bunch of kids books) which he had made up on the fly about a princess in a foreign land who realized the people taking care of her cherished her.Then he had had to explain the word cherish.She finally drifted off after that.Thank god.

“What are you making?”Ian asked as he sat in the kitchen stool he preferred when watching Mickey cook.

“Pasta.”Mickey grunted as he kneaded.

Ian knew that pasta had to rest for a while before it could be made into whatever shape it needed to be.Hungry and having no idea how elaborate this meal was going to be he offered, “Want me to do that so you can get started on the sauce?”

Mickey glanced up at him.“Nah.I’m done.It just needs to rest now.”

Ian watched as Mickey formed the dough into a ball, wrapped it in plastic and set it aside.Mickey was upset, Ian knew, and not in the mood to talk about it.Ian wanted to just get it out in the open, but knew better than take a direct approach at it.Instead he wanted to lube the mood.“What wine goes with what you’re making?”

“No idea.Something red, I guess.”Mickey replied as he deposited several bags of veggies on the counter.

“What are you making?”Ian asked, because even if Mickey knew very little about wine, he had a natural instinct for flavors and if the wine didn’t live up to the food he would not only notice but complain.

“Campellini pomodoro.”Mickey told him and then, because he was feeling merciful, he explained the dish.“Pasta, tomatoes, garlic and basil basically.”

Ian immediately pulled out his phone and did a little research.“Google says Melot or Zinfandel.Do you care?”

“Surprise me.”Mickey said with his back to Ian.He was washing tomatoes.

Ian went down to the wine cellar.There were bottles from floor to ceiling, many of which he had never tried.He had a sommelier friend who had stocked it with a wide array of varieties, vintners and years.It occurred to Ian they should invite him and some other friends to dinner some time.

He found the Zinfandel section and picked a Turley 2017 Juvenile because the website he found said younger Zins were better with lighter tomato based pasta dishes.How much younger could you get than juvenile vines?

He went back upstairs where Mickey had finished cutting tomatoes and had started crushing garlic.It smelled amazing.He stepped past Mickey to get the corkscrew and some glasses.As he passed he brushed a kiss on Mickey’s cheek.

Mickey ducked his head, but he was smiling, so Ian figured that was a successful first pass.

Ian got the wine poured and handed Mickey a glass.He stopped with the garlic long enough to take a sip.“Nice.This a Zin?”

It figured Mickey would pick up the differences in red wines so fast.He had what the cooking shows called a ‘great palate’. Ian nodded.“You seem to like the spicier, darker reds.”

Mickey smirked. “Like you in winter.”

“What?”Ian questioned, though he figured it was a pun about his hair.

“Your hair.It’s flame orange in the summer, but darker red in the winter when you get less sun.”Mickey replied, reaching out and running a hand through Ian’s hair.“Just something I noticed.”

“So you like my hair.”Ian smirked leaning in to the hand still lingering on the side of his head.

Mickey arched an eyebrow and patted Ian’s cheek.“Fishing for compliments?”

Ian put his wine glass down and moved in closer to Mickey, looking down at the smaller man.“No.I know I’m hot.” 

“Ego much, fire crotch?”

“Like you disagree with me.” Ian leaned in and kissed Mickey. 

Mickey responded with one hand buried in Ian’s hair and the other wrapping around his waist pulling their bodies closer together.

It felt good.They had not really had any physical intimacy since Frannie had come home and Ian had not realized how much he needed it until he had it again.It would have gone on and perhaps escalated, Mickey’s hand having settled on Ian’s ass, when Ian’s stomach growled loudly causing Mickey to pull back with a chuckle.

“Well hell, I better feed you before you waste away.”Mickey joked, pulling out of Ian’s arms and turning his attention back to his veggies.

Ian had mixed feelings, wanting to keep going and also being hungry as hell.He opted for compromise.“Only if you promise we can pick up where we left off as soon as we head to bed.”

“We’re gonna have some serious garlic breath, but yeah, okay.”Mickey agreed easily.

Ian smiled and resumed his seat, watching Mickey tear basil leaves off the stems and into smaller pieces.He wondered why Mickey wasn’t using a knife, but figured asking would result in a cooking lesson he didn’t really want.Mickey was the chef.He was just a very well fed customer.

“Do you think we should both take Frannie to daycare tomorrow?”Mickey asked as he put together the pasta machine and selected the attachment he wanted for whatever shaped pasta he was making.

Ian thought about it.They had to normalize the situation they were living in now.Frannie needed a routine and they needed to figure out how to take care of her and also locate the breaks where they could be together as a couple rather than pseudo-parents.“Yeah, since she’s more comfortable with you, that seems like a good idea.”

“How many blocks is it?”Mickey asked.

“Three.I’ll have a car pick us up.” 

Mickey shrugged as he forced pasta dough through the machine into progressively thinner sheets. “I walked more than that yesterday.”

“Yeah, but it hurt like a son of a bitch.”Ian protested.He did not want Mickey to push himself too hard.

“Feel okay today though so it wasn't that bad.”Mickey said.Then after a tick he asked,“Would it be weird for her to show up with two dudes though?”

Ian chuckled.“This is New York, not Mississippi.”

Not persuaded, Mickey muttered, “Still.”

Ian had been in New York longer than Mickey so he knew the odds were against there being an issue, but he had always been more comfortable being out than Mickey was.“If you’re uncomfortable, you don’t have to go.”

“I don’t want her to get bullied.”

“If she’s gonna be bullied for anything it’ll be her hair, not having two hot, young foster dads.”Ian replied.He knew this well from personal experience.People were mean to gingers because of the freckles, the light colored eye lashes and the orange hair.They could be brutal.Gay foster dads would be the least of Frannie’s problems.

“People really give you shit about your hair?”Mickey asked, arching an incredulous eyebrow at him.

“You give me shit about my hair.”Ian pointed out.

Mickey smirked.“Yeah, but I happen to like your alien looking ass.”

And that right there was at the heart of the bullying.Gingers did look different and they were rare enough people treated them like they were weird.“Fuck off, Mickey.”

“Seriously.I’ve always liked your hair, even when we were in little league.I remembered you because I liked your hair.”Mickey admitted with a blush.

“Really?”

“Yeah man.I got a thing for redheads.What can I say?”

Ian smiled at Mickey’s embarrassment.“That you’ve limited your dating pool to less than one percent of the global population?”

Mickey rolled his eyes and changed the subject.“Would you get me a pan and some olive oil? While your at it, can you ditch the shirt?I need some eye candy.”

That was a very nice change of pace.Ian teased, “What’s in it for me?”

“Dinner.”Mickey reminded him.

Ian withheld the pan and asked, “No, if I take off my shirt, what do I get?”

“Dinner.”Mickey said again, snatching the pan away and putting it on the stove.Over his shoulder he offered, “Maybe I can throw in another incentive for you later.”

“Hungry as I am, I’m still gonna need one.”Ian said, pulling his shirt over his head and shivering as the cool air hit his skin.

Mickey was watching him and swallowed as Ian’s nipples hardened at the sudden temperature change.In a husky voice he said, “I’ll see what I can do.”

***

Mickey leaned back in his chair and watched Ian plowing his way through his second plate of pasta.He had always liked cooking for other people even when it was just Pizza Bites and frozen burritos.Now he was serving much better food and the pleasure of eating it and watching it being eaten had increased.

Dr. Mohammed said cooking could often be very emotional, like a way of saying things through food that could not be said out loud.It certainly was for Mickey.This dish was perfect for what he was feeling. 

The pasta was al dente, with a little bit of a bite to it and the acid of the tomato with the pungent burn of the garlic felt like culinary metaphors.These were the emotions he could not find words for plated up and ready to be consumed. 

Ian was down to his last bite when a small voice said, “I’m hungry.”

Mickey turned to see Frannie dressed in pink My Little Pony pajamas and carrying a stuffed unicorn staring at him.

“Do you want some pasta?It’s really good.”Ian asked, getting up and heading for the kitchen.

Mickey also got up, very aware no kid was going to eat campellini pomodoro.“What about a grilled cheese sandwich?”

“Okay.”She nodded.

Ian looked confused.Mickey understood.When they were kids they got what was available.If they didn’t eat it they went hungry.It wasn’t an obvious thought for either of them to make something different for a child. 

He also realized if they didn’t talk soon there would likely be a competition between them for Frannie’s affection.Just thinking that felt bizarrely grown up and parental.

Mickey went to the fridge.The cheese drawer had some options.“You wanna pick your cheese?”

She shuffled into the kitchen.“Okay.”

“Can Ian give you a boost so you can see your choices?”Mickey asked.She could probably see it without a boost, but he wanted to involve Ian in the cooking and start building the trust between his gingers.

“I guess so.”She looked up at Ian with wide eyes, but she let him pick her up and hold her so she could see what was in the cheese drawer.Mickey liked watching how Ian’s muscles moved as he lifted her.Her first comment upon seeing the contents of the drawer was, “You don’t have any singles.”

“You’re right because that’s not cheese.That is processed cheese product and we don't eat that crap in this house.”Mickey responded.Ian made a face at him and Mickey realized that had probably come out a little more forcefully than he meant it.To smooth it over, he asked, “Why don't we get all of them out and do a taste test?”

“Okay.”Frannie agreed.

Ian put her down and started pulling out the various cheeses.Frannie climbed up on Ian’s stool.Mickey pulled out a cutting board and a cheese knife which he handed to Ian.“You wanna do the honors?”

“Sure.”Ian smiled at him and started unwrapping cheeses.

“Why aren’t you wearing a shirt?”She asked.

Ian blushed to the roots of his hair and lied.“Um, because I spilled on it?”

“Oh.What is that kind?”

“So this one is Swiss.”Ian read off the package as he handed Frannie a small sliver of cheese.He looked uncomfortable, but Frannie no longer cared her was topless. 

Next was Gouda and as they worked their way through the six different cheeses Mickey had left over from Christmas Ian forgot about his shirtlessness and the two of them got more animated discussing the merits of each cheese.

Mickey chuckled when both of them decided they hated the goat milk cheese.Life was weird sometimes.Who knew people could bond over cheese?After a few retests they decided her sandwich would have cheddar, Swiss and provolone cheeses combined.

The next issue was a lack of bread which was solved with the discovery of some flour tortillas in the freezer and a quick explanation of a quesadilla. 

“This is really good!”Frannie said after she took her first bite.

“I’m glad you like it.”Mickey smiled as he handed the pan over to Ian who was doing the dishes.

“You are the kid whisperer.”Ian said softly so Frannie couldn’t hear him over her enthusiastic chewing.

“If I couldn’t cook, this would be a whole different ball game.”Mickey replied.There was a great deal of truth in the saying the way to a person’s heart was through their stomach.

Then Ian blundered into the weeds by asking, “Frannie, are you looking forward to school tomorrow?”

Her face immediately fell.“I don’t wanna go.”

“You don't want to make new friends?”Ian asked.Mickey knew Ian had seen school as an escape from the chaos of his home life.It made sense he would not understand why someone else wouldn’t see it the same way.

“I want my mommy.”She put down the last slice of quesadilla and started to tear up.

Mickey slugged Ian in the shoulder.Ian gave him a ‘what did I do’ look.Mickey rolled his eyes and tried to smooth things over.“You’re gonna see your mom again.Don’t you worry.”

“She’ll be lonely without me.”Frannie sniffled.

Mickey heaved a relieved sigh.They might still make it out of this without a total meltdown.“I know.You’re sorta lonely without her too, huh?”

“Yeah.”Frannie agreed, looking incredibly sad.It was heartbreaking.

“My mom was gone a lot when I was a little kid.”Ian muttered, sounding weirdly timid and defiant at the same time, like he was determined to add his two cents but scared it would backfire.

“She was?”Frannie asked, looking up at Ian with wide eyes.

“Yeah.Your mom and me, our mother was really sick when we were growing up so she was gone most of the time.We were lucky though because we took care of each other like the three of us are going to have to do until your mommy can come back.”

She turned to Mickey.“What about your mommy?”

Frannie was way too young to know what a disaster Mickey’s mother had been.He tried to describe her as vaguely as possible.“My mom was around, but she wasn’t a very good mom.She was actually pretty bad at it.”

“Why?”Frannie asked, skewering him with a shrewd look.It was easy to forget that though the circumstances were better than they had been when they was growing up, Frannie had still spent her entire short life on the Southside.She might be four years old, but she had probably already seen more shit than most of her future classmates would in their entire lives.

“Lots of reasons, kiddo.”Mickey told her.It wasn’t enough somehow so he added, “She tried, but she was just too broken to even take care of herself, much less us.”

A fire lit in Frannie’s eyes.“My mommy is a welder.”

“You’re right.She sure is.”Ian agreed, smiling at the pride on Frannie’s face.

“She loves me.”She declared.

“Yes, she does.”Mickey agreed.

“She’s gonna get me back.”

Mickey wasn’t so sure. Apparently neither was Ian because he offered a noncommittal response saying, “That’s the goal, Frannie.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> PS. Still love the new job. It feels like an old shoe, worn in & comfortable.


	52. Repressed Memories - TRIGGER WARNING

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So....as someone said, it’s always two steps forward, one step back with these guys. This is one of those moments.
> 
> If you have TRIGGERS related to RAPE, it’s okay to read up to the first set of ***. From there, please just scroll to the bottom where I’ve given a short summary of what happened in this chapter.
> 
> OR you can skip this one entirely since Ian and Mickey will talk about what happened in the next chapter, just in far less dramatic terms.

“Come here.”Mickey said.

He was already in bed when Ian walked out of the bathroom.Ian just stopped and stared at him for a moment.The firelight enhanced the murky dark of his hair and the alabaster glow of his pale skin.Mickey had put on some weight and looked more like himself than he had when they first met up again at Yevgeny’s birthday all those months ago.

The confidence was back in his smirk and it was one of the sexiest things Ian had ever seen.“You know you’re amazing right?”

“Yeah.I’m amazing.” Mickey agreed, throwing the covers back in invitation.“I said, come here.”

“Is this that incentive you promised me?”Ian teased, loving how lighthearted the moment felt when everything around them had been so heavy lately.

Mickey’s smirk turned predatory.“Maybe.Come here and find out.”

“I love you, you know.”Ian blurted because he did.He loved this man.

Mickey rolled his eyes and patted the bed next to him.“Ian.”

It stung a little Mickey couldn’t or wouldn’t say the words back to him, but it was crystal clear in those soulful blue eyes.Ian swallowed his disappointment.“Okay.”

“Get naked.” Mickey ordered.

Enjoying the other man taking control and acting more like the demanding asshole Ian had known most of his life, Ian shrugged and started on his fly.“Okay.”

Once he had stripped he just stood there and let Mickey admire him for a moment.He had put on a couple pounds since Mickey had started cooking, but his clothes still fit and he still had a six pack so he didn’t care too much.He ran a hand down from his chest to his lower abdomen watching Mickey’s eyes track the movement.He never knew how nudity would be received but so far so good.

“Jesus.”Mickey breathed.

“You okay?”Ian asked.

Mickey swallowed.“Yeah.”

“Just tell me what you want.”Ian said as he climbed into bed next to Mickey, close but not touching, waiting for Mickey to take the lead.

One of Mickey’s arms came around his shoulders pulling him in closer as the other hand came to rest on his cheek.“Kiss me.”

Ian smiled and leaned forward.“Any time, Mickey.”

They made out for a long moment and it felt so good.They had not really done much of this way back when, more focused on immediate gratification than slow seduction. 

Every once in a while though, when they were alone in the house, Mickey would let his guard down and they would just kiss and fondle and tease for ages before they had sex.Those had been Ian’s favorite times.

Maybe Mickey was thinking about those moments too because he said, “Touch me.”

“Really?”Ian asked, breaking away so he could look at Mickey and maybe figure out what the smaller man was thinking.Did he really want this or was he trying to give Ian something he thought Ian needed?

Mickey pushed Ian’s face into the pillow with a roll of his eyes.“Just do it, man, don’t stare at me.You’ll be the second one to know if it’s a problem.”

Ian decided to do as asked.He put his hand over Mickey’s boxer clad crotch cupping him.None of the usual signs of panic were immediately apparent so he gently squeezed.Mickey groaned and one of his hands gripped at Ian’s hip.

Ian leaned in and resumed the kiss as he squeezed again, a little harder, pleased as punch to be able to touch Mickey in such an intimate way.He had missed this much more than he had known.Mickey groaned again and Ian’s fingers started looking for the gap in Mickey’s boxers so he could pull the smaller man’s dick out and give him the hand job of his life.

Just as he accomplished his goal, Mickey’s hand wrapped around Ian’s erection.Ian very nearly came from the surprise of it.

Immediately things started to unravel. 

Ian knew it when the hand holding him started to shake.He looked up at Mickey who had his eyes tightly closed.“Look at me, Mickey.”

Blue eyes snapped opened and Ian could see the distance in them, the sheer terror.Mickey was not in bed with him anymore.He was somewhere else. Ian pulled his hand away from Mickey’s crotch, wishing he had never touched Mickey like he had. 

Mickey squeezed him painfully tight, like he was trying to hold on, but then the shorter man let go so violently it felt like a junk punch and pushed hard against Ian’s torso, shoving his way to the other side of the bed, fighting with the sheets in an effort to escape.He was gasping for air and looking like he was either going to run or burst into tears, maybe both.

Ian was struggling for something to say or do, when Mickey finally managed to break free and careened into the bathroom, the door slamming behind him.

Ian sighed and rolled over clutching his balls.He had fucked up again.

***

******TRIGGER WARNING******

Mickey sat in the shower.The water was raining down on him.

The adrenaline was starting to wear off and he felt twitchy and wound way too tight.The pain in his left side was intense.

He knew Ian was out there in the huge bed they shared feeling like a piece of shit and blaming himself.He snorted, because he was feeling the exact same way.

It had felt so good, so normal.He grabbed Ian’s cock thinking the other man had earned himself a blowjob which...

For a split second had been alright, but then shame, fear and self loathing kicked in overwhelming whatever else he might have felt. 

One of them had made him suck him off.It was the only other dick Mickey had ever had in his mouth.

Remembering that brought a host of memories with it.

He knew the detachment was due to a head injury and blood loss, but the things that had gone through his mind at the time had been weirdly pragmatic. 

It was easier to suck a smaller dick.Blood was terrible lube.Seeing out of only one eye made it hard to judge distances.That was his dad in the corner, watching him.His dad who had been so enraged when he walked in on Mickey and Ian he had pistol whipped him and forced him to fuck and impregnate a woman.He remembered staring at his dad as the dick in his ass was replaced with something that rammed into him, over and over, deeper and deeper and fuck it hurt so bad and Terry just sat there and watched.He watched and did nothing.

God, Mickey wanted his brain to turn off.They had been working on remembering the details at his therapy sessions, but if this was what he had to remember, Mickey wanted to quit.He needed it to stop.Stop. _Stop_.

The bathroom door opened.

Mickey panicked, looking around for some way to escape, but he was sitting in a huge pool of blood and he was tired.So tired.He was bleeding out of his asshole and this was how he was going to die.Bleeding to death in a stupid huge shower, in the hot rain.

He couldn’t breathe.He clutched at his chest.He could not breathe.His heart was beating a million miles an hour pumping his blood out of his body faster and faster until there wouldn't be anything left to circulate and his heart stopped.

He put a hand between his legs and clutched at his asshole, trying to hold in the flood. 

Someone touched him and he jerked away from it.No.No.No no no no no nonononono...

“I don’t know what’s wrong with him.He hasn’t done this before. He’s not hearing me at all.” 

Nononononononononononononono...

“I’m sorry, oh god, I am _so_ sorry.” 

Nononononononononononononono...

“He’s just saying no over and over again.”

His heart was pounding in his ears, thundering so fast it sounded like a drum solo on fast toward.His lungs were burning, his ass was on fire, deep in his gut something popped and there was blood everywhere.He didn’t want to die, not like this. Oh, please, not like this.

“He’s in the shower.”

“No, he’s fully clothed still.”

No, he wasn’t.His jumpsuit was missing, prison issue boxers trapped around a mangled ankle he couldn’t even feel anymore.And they’re mocking him.He hears Terry’s voice telling the others Mickey had a little dick.They laugh and agree.He does have a small dick.

“He’s clutching his chest with one hand and his ass with the other. Is he having a heart attack?Should I call 911?” 

He couldn’t hold in the blood.He couldn’t catch his breath.His heart stuttered.

“I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

Mickey’s couldn’t keep his eyes open. They felt heavy, everything felt heavy. 

“What do I do?I’m so sorry.Oh my god.”

The strength left his arms.He could not hold in the blood anymore.He let go and the trickle became a gush and then everything went black.

***

Mickey woke up cold and hot at the same time.He was wet and buried under blankets. 

A female voice said, “You have to calm down.”

Mickey wanted to tell her he was calm and to leave him the fuck alone, but couldn’t make the words come out.It was too much effort.He didn’t have the energy.

“I fucked up so bad.I’m so fucking sorry.”

That was Ian’s voice and he sounded terrible like he had been or was about to cry.

“Why don’t we go downstairs and let Mickey sleep.”The female voice said.

Mickey wanted to disagree.Ian shouldn’t be alone when he sounded this close to hysterical.He needed to be grounded in something.Mickey tried to say so, but the words did not come out.

“No, I can’t leave him.He shouldn’t be alone.”Ian refused.

“Okay.Okay. Can you at least sit?” The female voice asked. “Mickey is alright.He just needs to rest.” 

There was a moment of quiet during which Mickey started to drift off and then she asked, “So tell me what happened.”

“He wanted me to touch him.”Ian’s voice dripped shame like tears.Mickey opened his eyes.

“So you did.”The woman prompted.

“Yeah.” Ian breathed like he was admitting to murder rather than groping his...whatever.

“Then what happened?”

“Nothing.It was like old times, you know?He was enjoying it.”Ian paused.“I thought he was enjoying it.”

“I see.” She responded, and Mickey marveled at how shrinks could sound so calm and nonjudgmental.This had to be Dr. Brynner because Mickey seriously doubted there was anyone else Ian would have called for help in the middle of the night when he was this upset.

“What was weird was it seemed okay until he touched me.”

Mickey sort of remembered that.He had put his hand on Ian’s cock, that huge, beating thing that would break him in two if...Stop. _Stop._

“What happened when he touched you?”

“He bugged out.Like there was almost no warning or anything.He was into it one minute and then he just wasn’t there anymore.Gone.I looked in his eyes and he was so far away.He’s had panic attacks before, but nothing like this.”

“We should let him rest.”Dr, Brynner said again.

Ian disagreed. “I don’t want to leave him.”

“Ian, these episodes are exhausting.He needs to sleep.”

“What if he hurt his knee again? Or his hip?”Ian asked.

Mickey wiggled a little.His joints were fine.What was bothering him was that thing that was way too deep inside. 

He’d had these pains off and on since the event.There had been a lot of tests and no reason for the pains, at least no reason he had ever been willing to think about.

He knew he was in Ian’s bed, in Ian’s house, in New York City as far removed from what had happened to him as he could be, but that fucking rod was still prodding at his diaphragm, a dull, aching phantom pain he could not shake off especially now that he remembered what it was.

“Is he still taking the Ativan?”Dr. Brynner asked.

“Only when he needs to.He’s on Zoloft.He’s been a lot better with that.”

“This is the second time this has happened.The first time was when he had Dr. Mo tell you about the rape, correct?”

“This was way worse.”

Mickey agreed. 

“You’ve both been under a lot of stress lately.”

That was an understatement, Mickey thought shifting his weight, trying to ease the pain on his left side, just under his rib cage.It had been months since the last time he had experienced this feeling. 

He hated it.He had always hated it, but it was much worse now, knowing where it came from.

“I’m the crazy one.If anyone is going to lose their shit, it’s supposed to be me.”

“Ian.”Mickey could hear the exasperated eye roll in her voice. If she was anything like Dr. Mohammed she hated the word crazy.

“I just...I didn’t realize how bad it was.I mean, obviously it’s bad.How could it not be bad?Fuck.But, I didn’t...he seemed to be handling it.”

Mickey felt a stab of shame. 

“He _is_ handling it, but healing takes time.The things he is working through with Dr. Mohammed are brutal.It’s not easy and he is doing much better than I thought he would.”

Her vote of confidence was a surprise to Mickey.He always felt like he was disappointing Dr. Mohammed, but if this was what his shrink was telling Ian’s shrink, he must be doing better than he thought.

“I just wish I could help him.”

“Believe it or not, you can.”

Mickey wondered if that was true.There had been a moment between being released from prison, starting his new life and when he and Ian reunited during which he had had no panic attacks at all.Then Ian was back in his life and things he wanted to forget were dredged back up.

“I love him so much.”

“I know.”Dr. Brynner agreed.Mickey wondered at how like Dr. Mohammed she sounded.It was weird both of their head shrinkers were more confident in their relationship than either of it’s actual participants were.

Ian sighed.“All I do is hurt him though.”

“I don’t believe that’s true.” 

“It feels like it.”

Mickey agreed with Ian.It did feel like it sometimes, but it really wasn’t Ian’s fault.

“Would he stay if he didn’t want to?”

“No.” Ian said immediately, voice confident, but it cracked when he added, “But he thinks I won’t love him if we can’t fuck.”

Exactly, Mickey thought.Ian could deny it all he wanted, but they were doomed if things kept going like this.

“We have talked about this before.”

“I’ll wait forever if I have to.”Ian said sounding nauseatingly earnest.

“Have you said this to him?”

“Yeah.He doesn’t believe me though.”

Nope, Mickey did not believe him.

“Why should he?Sex is an important part of any relationship, Ian.”Dr. Brynner said, surprising Mickey she agreed with him.

“But some gay couples...”

“Never have sex, yes, by mutual agreement.They gratify their intimacy needs without penetrative sex.”She cut off Ian’s favorite defense of the lie he liked to tell about their future. “Your past relationship with each other was largely based on penetrative sex though, Ian.You just went through a manic episode in which you engaged in penetrative sex acts with other men.Why should Mickey believe you when you tell him this no longer matters to you?”

“Because I love him.”Ian said and Mickey could almost hear the stubborn raised chin and the narrowed green eyes.

“How is he supposed to believe that when you aren’t being truthful with him?”

It was as if she had taken the words right out of Mickey’s mouth. 

“I’m not lying to him.”Ian sounded gut punched.

She sighed.“You are going to lose him if you persist in this.”

“I’ll lose him if I don’t.”

“No, I don’t think you will.”Dr. Brynner said, and Mickey was curious to know why she thought that. “You’ve already cheated, Ian.Telling him you will wait forever is a bald faced lie.”

Ian was silent and Mickey was stunned at how directly Dr. Brynner had called the redhead out.She had just voiced what Mickey already knew.It stung to hear someone else say it though.

“So I just tell him being together is contingent on him giving me something he can’t give?”

“You tell him you understand sex it an important part of a healthy relationship.You tell him you understand it will take time, that there will be setbacks and trust issues but that you love him enough to work through it with him.”

“I am doing that.”Ian protested.

“No, you’re telling him his concerns are invalid while at the same time proving he is right to be worried. You are also proving he cannot trust you, and for rape survivors the key to restoring intimacy is trust.”

She was saying the things Mickey had never had the words to say and Ian wasn’t hearing her.To prove it, the ginger menace said, “It’s just more pressure he doesn’t need.”

“I disagree.It’s acknowledging how he feels and being truthful about what you need.Truth is necessary for trust.Trust is necessary for intimacy.For rape survivors, intimacy is necessary for sex.”Dr. Brynner explained. 

“I hate what happened to him.”

“Not nearly as much as he does.” Dr. Brynner replied.“You can get through this, but you have to start being honest with yourself and with Mickey.”

“Don’t I make him feel even shittier demanding something he can’t give?”Ian asked.

“He already knows you want something from him he can’t give you right now.Acknowledging it can’t hurt.”

This was true. 

After a long pause, Ian said, “I’ll try.”

“I know you will.”Dr. Brynner agreed. 

Mickey hoped that was true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Mickey promised Ian an incentive in the last chapter and in this one he tries to deliver. Per the usual he pushes himself farther than he should and while Ian is touching him, he tries touching Ian. When he does, he thinks about giving Ian a blow job which triggers memories he had suppressed. 
> 
> He has a full blown panic attack complete with tachycardia and tachypnea (rapid heart rate and hyperventilation) that cause him to pass out. Ian is watching this happen and is also freaking out worrying Mickey is having a heart attack while he is on the phone with Dr. Brynner asking her what to do.
> 
> When Mickey wakes up, he’s in bed. Ian has called Dr. Brynner over for a midnight house call. They are both in the room with him because Ian refuses to leave him alone. Mickey overhears them talking about what happened and has his own thoughts about it which include details of the rape he has just remembered. He remembers being forced to give a blow job and the rod that caused the perforated bowel, (if you remember from Dr. Mo’s description of what happened several chapters ago). 
> 
> Dr. Brynner and Ian also talk about their relationship and trust issues and that Ian is lying to both of them about his needs related to sex. The chapter ends with Ian promising to be more honest because honesty is needed for trust, trust is needed for intimacy, and intimacy is needed for sex.
> 
> Just so you know, since I’m pretty sure this summary sucks, Mickey and Ian will talk about this some in the next chapter so it’s not like you have to read this chapter to get back up to speed with the story.
> 
> I hope this wasn’t too awful if you chose to give it a go. It wasn’t easy to write and I’m frankly worried about how it will be received. 
> 
> Also, for those who may wonder how much more horrible I can make this, I can’t. This is the worst of it. They still have some significant bumps ahead, but nothing as ugly as this chapter.
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading. 😱😬😳


	53. Hi-ho, hi-ho, It’s Off to School We Go

“Hi, Mickey.”Ian said when he trotted up the stairs into the kitchen after his run.Mickey handed him a cup of coffee as if he had timed Ian’s arrival.His hand shook a little which Ian took to mean he was barely holding himself together.He would need to tread very lightly today.

“Hey.”Mickey muttered and turned his attention back to the stove and the omelette Ian could see cooking there.“Frannie is in the courtyard with Scraggles.She wants to go with you when you walk him.”

“Oh, right.”Ian didn’t want to take the dog for a walk.He didn’t want to deal with Frannie.He wanted to stay in the kitchen all day and talk with Mickey.There was a lot that needed to be talked about.

He glanced at his watch.There would be time to talk after they dropped Frannie off.If he took a shower now they could combine the dog walk with the walk to preschool.“I guess we need to get going soon, huh?”

“Yeah.Here.”Mickey handed him a plate with the omelette.

As Mickey poured more eggs into the pan to make an omelette for himself, Ian took a bite and savored how amazing a cook Mickey was.It was fucking perfect.A Michelin starred chef at a fancy restaurant couldn’t make a better omelette in Ian’s opinion.If Mickey ever decided he didn’t want to be an accountant and wanted to be a chef instead, Ian would fully support that decision.

Mickey’s cooking really wasn't the point though.“I’m sorry about yesterday.”

Mickey’s back went stiff.“Don’t.”

Unable to just let it go like he suspected he should, Ian tried again, “I just...”

“Please.”Mickey cut him off. 

Since it wasn’t a word Mickey used often, Ian stopped. 

“Just don’t.”

“We have to talk eventually.”Ian protested, because they did.He had been so scared he had almost called an ambulance.Mickey was a tough as nails son of a bitch so to see him cowering in the shower out of his mind terrified had Ian so freaked out he had dragged his shrink out of bed and over for a house call.

“For fuck’s sake, Gallagher.”Mickey complained.“Stop busting my balls, man.”

“I want...”

“I know what you want.”Mickey cut him off.

“I don’t think you do.”Ian muttered, because Mickey didn’t believe Ian would move whatever mountains needed moving to ensure Mickey felt safe, appreciated and loved.Aware Mickey wasn't going to hear him right now Ian gave in. “I’m gonna go shower.We can take Scraggles when we walk Frannie to school.Sound like a plan?”

“Fine.”Mickey shrugged, not turning around.

Twenty minutes later, Frannie was dressed in her new school uniform, Mickey was bundled up for the walk he insisted on participating in, Scraggles was leashed and wearing a little black jacket with the word “security” embroidered on the back and Ian just wanted to get them on the road.

He helped Frannie into her little red coat and held open the front door for his ragtag family.

“Do I have to go?”Frannie asked as they left the house.

“Yeah.”Ian told her.“School is pretty fun though.You learn lots of new things and you get to make friends.I really liked school.”

“Did you like school?”Frannie asked Mickey as he slowly made his way down the stairs to the pavement.Frannie matched him step for step looking like she planned to catch him if he stumbled.It was sweet in a way that made Ian’s heart hurt.

“School was alright.”Mickey muttered.

“My mommy said I would go to school when I am five.I’m not five yet.”She told them as Mickey finally made it to the sidewalk and they headed east towards her new school.

“Kids in New York go to school earlier than kids in Chicago.”Ian lied, because why the hell had Debbie told Frannie that?To back up his story he added, “Yevgeny went to preschool when he was your age.”

“Really?”Frannie asked sounding suspicious.

Svetlana had put Yevgeny in preschool the second she could afford it.She wanted him to have the best of everything and in her opinion that started with education.Ian remembered vividly how she had scrimped and saved so her son could get started as early as possible.“Yeah, he did.Maybe you can ask him about it when they come over for dinner tomorrow.” 

“Okay.”She muttered.They made it a block in silence before she very quietly asked, “What if no one likes me?”

“What’s not to like?”Ian asked.She was a great kid.

Mickey was more pragmatic.“Not everyone will like you, ginger snap.That’s just how the world works. Don't sweat it though. You’ll meet some kids you like who like you back.”

“What if I’m not smart enough?”

“You’re smart enough.”Mickey reassured her.Then he added, “No one is good at everything, though.Like Ian isn’t very good at math, but he’s great at story telling.I suck at history because my memory is crap, but I’m really good with numbers.”

“Oh.”

Ian appreciated how Mickey was trying to set realistic expectations.He thought telling kids they could be whatever they wanted to be was sort of cruel since it wasn’t true. 

“It’s okay to not be good at something.”Mickey continued.“It just means you need to try a little harder or try something else, that’s all.”

Still stuck on the idea of realistic expectations Ian said, “I wanted to get into West Point, that’s a really fancy military school, when I was a kid and it was all about math and history.I had to study extra super hard.”

“Did you get in?”Frannie asked.

Looking back, Ian knew it would have been hard for a guy as smart as Lip to get in, but he’d had delusions of grandeur and foolishly thought working hard could make up for a lack of natural ability.It could not.Instead, he’d had to find something else to devote himself to that he _was_ good at.“It didn’t work out, no.”

“But all that geometry he studied helps now with his video games.”Mickey immediately added.

“Um, yeah.”That was sort of true, though Ian was mainly the idea guy.He was also the face and mouthpiece of Claymore.The math of trajectories for snipers and artillery he left to Garry and the design team.

They paused for Scraggles to do some business before setting off again at a slow pace.It was part accommodation for Mickey and part dragging feet for Frannie.

After another block, the building came into sight. 

“This is it.”Ian said when they made it to the bright teal door indicating the school.Frannie reached for Mickey’s hand, putting hers over his on the crutch handle.She looked scared.

Mickey exchanged a look with Ian that was full of the sort of compassion Mickey would deny being capable of if someone called him out on it. 

Another parent with a child in tow pushed past them to get inside.

“Let’s go meet your teacher, okay?”Mickey said to Frannie looking down at her with soft blue eyes.“I bet they’re really cool.”

It took nearly an hour for Ian to finish the registration and for Mickey to escape the classroom he had been allowed to enter.When he came out he look relieved.“She’s playing with the other kids.I figured when she finally wasn’t looking for me every five seconds I should make a break for it.”

“I bet she’ll have tons of stories to tell us tonight.”Ian agreed remembering when Liam had started school.While the stories were not exactly interesting, it had been important for his little brother to be heard.

“Probably.”Mickey agreed.

“You want to Uber back?”

“Nah.I’m okay.”Mickey refused as he carefully made his way back down the stairs to the pavement.

“We have to pick her up between five and six thirty.”Ian replied, setting an alarm on his phone for a five thirty.

“Okay.”Mickey agreed as he started walking back toward the brownstone.

Ian trotted a few steps to catch up.“What are you doing today?”

“Other than Mo, not a damn thing.Might make some bread.”Mickey told him.There had been plans for Mickey to resume working part time, but life events had not cooperated yet.The plan was for next week now.

“I’m working from home.”Ian nodded and then shared his plans.“Got a couple meetings and a test play session, if you want to join.”

“Maybe.”Mickey offered a noncommittal shrug.Now that Frannie was safely deposited in school the vibe between them was closing off.Ian could feel it.

Which prompted him to say, “I’m really sorry about last night.”

“Not your fault.”Mickey grunted, picking up speed as if he would be safe once he was back in his kitchen.

Unable to let it go that fast and aware he had Mickey captive for another two blocks, Ian asked, “What happened?”

“Hard to explain.”

Which was a step up from the ‘none of your fucking business’ he had expected.

“It hasn’t been that bad before.”Ian prodded.

“It was way worse in prison.This used to happen a lot when I was in the joint.”Mickey told him without looking at him. “It’s part of why I finished out in the medical ward.They thought I’d either end up hurting myself or murdering someone.”

“I shouldn’t have touched you.”Ian said, though he didn’t think that was really the trigger.

Mickey shook his head. “My sessions with Mo have been pretty rough lately, dredging up some pretty heinous shit.”

“What can I do to help?”Ian asked, because if there was anything he could do, he would.

“You can’t help.”

“Maybe I can a little.I can start being honest with both of us about...”

“I heard you talking with your shrink last night.”Mickey cut him off.

Ian was taken aback. He had not realized Mickey was awake and immediately feared what sort of impression his conversation with Dr. Brynner had left on the smaller man. Blushing to the roots of his hair, he tried to explain, “I love you. I want...”

“Yeah, I know what you want.”

“But...”

“Just stop, Ian.I know you want to put your dick in me.I know.”Mickey ground the words out like it killed him to say them.Then he added in a softer tone, “I want that, too.”

A woman passing them on the street stumbled, overhearing them. Mickey glared at her when she glanced back at them.Ian gave her a withering look before his attention returned to Mickey and the argument they were having.“I can wait, however long it takes, I’ll wait...”

“That’s a lie. You won’t.You’ll cheat.You already do.”Mickey reminded him, glaring down the street as if Ian’s infidelity was the fault of the road rather than Ian.

Ian grimaced. “Can we talk about it? I don't want to hurt you or lie to you, but we have to be realistic about my issues.”

“Realistically,” Mickey started, stopping in his tracks and looking Ian directly in the eye. “What am I supposed to do with that?Just be like, okay, cool.Fuck whoever you want?”

“In my prefect world I wouldn’t have to look anywhere else.” The only man he wanted was Mickey.Anyone else was a forgettable illusion made desirable by a disease he could not control.

Mickey’s gaze fell and he rubbed hard at his left side, frowning.“This isn’t your perfect world.”

Ian was acutely aware his perfect world was a long way off.He was more worried by how uncomfortable Mickey looked all of a sudden.“What’s wrong with your ribs?”

“Nothing.”Mickey growled, starting forward with an increased limp on his left side.He was favoring it more.

“Mickey.”Ian said, chided, trailing behind Mickey in case the smaller man stumbled.  Something was wrong.

“You really don't want to know.”Mickey muttered as they crossed onto Ian’s block.

Ian thought about that.Obviously the source of this pain was going to be something awful, that was evident in the way Mickey was behaving.“Yes, I do.”

“So what are you going to do with the fact they stuck a pipe so far up my ass it bruised my diaphragm?”Mickey asked, picking up speed now that Ian’s house was in sight.

Ian stopped.“They...they did what?”

“There was a pipe, in my ass.”Mickey told him, tone matter of fact even if his back was ramrod straight and he was limping even harder like just the memory of it was excruciating.“I can still feel it.It was right here.”

“Holy fuck.”Ian breathed as Mickey gestured toward his ribs.He could not imagine.

“That’s why I lost six inches of bowel and why I saw my guts and why it hurts whenever I think about...it.”Mickey continued as he climbed the stairs to the brownstone at a pace Ian thought was unsafe.

“Mildred, we’re home.”The lock clicked open the moment he hit the top step and Ian followed Mickey into the house trying to wrap his mind around the anatomy of a pipe being that far inside of some one.

Mickey pealed off his coat and hung it in the closet.

Still dressed for the outdoors, Ian came up beside Mickey and put his hand over the smaller man’s ribcage on the left side.“Here?”

Mickey slapped his hand away.“Don’t fucking touch me!”

Ian was staring at Mickey’s abdomen remembering all the scars and awash in the suffering that had created them.It was horrible to think about, worse to live through, and all he was left with was a defiant adoration for the man in front of him.“They got their pound of flesh.All that’s left, this is you, Mickey.It’s you and I love you.”

Mickey offered a very bleak chuckle.“You don’t understand.”

“You’re right, I don’t. I can’t. But I’m going to love you with everything I have anyway.”Ian promised, shrugging out of his coat.

Mickey sighed and the defeat in it made Ian’s heart hurt.“I can’t take your dick.”

“And yet I still love you.”Ian replied.

Mickey glared at him and suddenly Ian understood what Dr. Brynner had been trying to tell him. 

Dr. Brynner was right about the need to be truthful, first with himself, then with Mickey. Sometimes that would mean facing some hard truths like the fact infidelity would likely be a blight on their relationship, no matter what Mickey could or couldn’t do. Sex was something he needed. It was a need he could control most of the time, but pretending he could control it all the time was bullshit. Trying to deny it was lying. Saying he would wait forever was a pie in the sky dream that was also a lie.

He would never earn Mickey’s trust back if he couldn’t be brutally honest with himself and open about things with Mickey. He would never get the intimacy he craved if he didn’t man up and start sharing the things he would rather hide. He had to give Mickey the tools to make an informed decision about what he wanted and what he could or couldn’t give in a relationship. He owed it to him.

Mickey moved away from him toward the elevator.

“Look, we both know sex is an important part of any relationship, but focusing on what we can’t do isn’t good for either of us.Let’s just enjoy what we can as we can.” 

“That sounds great and all, but what if I never can?”Mickey asked, hitting the call button for the elevator.

There were work arounds and alternatives they could explore to make sure both of them had their needs met.Ian got into the elevator next to Mickey.“I still want to come home to you every night.”

“You say that now.”Mickey shrugged and stumped out of the elevator toward the kitchen.

“You’re it for me, Mickey.” Ian replied. “We’ll find a way to make it work.”

“Yeah, I let you fuck other guys.”

“You don’t want to do that.” It was the obvious solution, but equally obvious was how detestable Mickey found the idea.Ian didn’t like it either.He went to the coffee machine and poured himself another cup.

“Fuck no, I don’t want to do that.”Mickey exclaimed, pushing Ian out of the way so he could also get more coffee.

“We aren’t there yet, Mick. I’m fine. I’m not manic. You’ve only been in therapy for a few months and look how far we’ve already come. Do we have to worry about never right now?”Ian asked, because right now, it wasn’t an issue.They had a plan in place for the next manic episode so until that happened they just had to wait and hope it would be enough to keep Ian from doing something Mickey couldn’t live with.

“I worry about it. All the goddamn time, I worry about it.”Mickey admitted.Then he glared at Ian. “Two weeks ago, you were fucking other men.”

“I didn’t have a plan because I hadn’t needed one before. Now I do.” Ian replied. Mickey knew this. What he had not been as eager to admit was,“Even with a plan, I’ll probably still fuck up someday, but I’m gonna do what I can not to.”

“Way to sell yourself there, Gallagher.”Mickey snorted, turning his back and heading to the refrigerator.“So I just let you fuck around and accept it, that’s your solution?”

“No, I’m not saying that at all. I’m saying that we have time since I’m not manic. I’m saying we have a plan in case I do go manic. Maybe a few months or years from now, you will feel differently about having sex. Maybe you won’t. What it all comes down to is we have to have realistic expectations of each other.”

“You want a fuck buddy.”Mickey accused, pulling a glass jar of white, bubbly something that looked utterly disgusting to Ian out of the refrigerator. 

“No!I want you and no one but you.”Ian replied and it was the God’s honest truth, but bipolar was a bitch.“If that’s too much pressure, I’m sorry, but it’s the truth. I know it might not work out, but I want you.”

“You cheated before you were bipolar.”Mickey reminded him opening the jar and sniffing it.

“So did you.”Ian shot back, taking a step back from the sharp, pungent odor coming from the jar. 

“I didn’t want to be gay.”Mickey put the lid back on and left the jar on the counter as he moved away to the pantry.

“I don’t want to be bipolar.”Ian said, following Mickey to the pantry and getting the huge containers of flour he knew Mickey was looking for.As he set them on the counter by the stand mixer, he continued, “These aren’t things we choose.They just are.”

“Fuck.” Mickey used his hip to push Ian away from his bread making spot.“So wingman and a safe word, that’s the best we got?”

“For now, yeah.” Ian replied.

Mickey sighed. “We have the shittiest luck.”

”What do you mean?”

Mickey pulled out a huge bowl and set it on the counter. ”A bipolar guy with hyper sexuality and a rape survivor with PTSD, we’re a match made in hell.”

”Or, we’re two guys who have been burned all the way down and came back even stronger.” Ian took a chance and squeezed Mickey’s shoulder.

Mickey didn’t shrug him off. Instead he put a hand over Ian’s and said, ”Fuck, I hope so.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this answers some of the questions left over from the last chapter. 😬


	54. Threesome

“Maybe we need to be a threesome.”Mickey said from his uncomfortable perch on the tall chair in Dr. Mohammed’s office.He would much rather be at home making bread, but somehow these meetings with Dr. Mohammed, as painful and frightening as they sometimes were, had become an outlet he had to have.

“Why do you say that?”Dr. Mohammed asked from his place on the couch.

“He’s going to fuck someone else so I may as well know the guy and maybe not hate him.”Mickey responded.It had been on his mind a lot lately.It was the only way he could think of that would allow them to stay together.He would have to learn to share, even if it killed him, or it would all fall apart. 

“Is this an eminent problem that requires addressing this instant?”Dr. Mohammed asked with an arched brow.

“Fuck if I know.It will be the next time he goes manic.”Mickey waffled back to his other thought on Ian’s hyper-sexuality.“I mean, maybe we hire a service or something?”

“Is that what you want?”

“Fuck no.I want...I want...”He trailed off.

“You want to be his only lover.”Dr. Mohammed finished when Mickey trailed off.

“Yeah.”And if he couldn’t have that he wanted to at least make sure Ian stayed safe and reduce the risk the other guy could steal his heart.

“Is that a reasonable thing to expect from a man for whom hyper-sexuality is a prominent feature of the manic phase of his bipolar disorder?”Dr. Mohammed asked.

“Is it unreasonable?” Mickey shot back.He didn’t know anyone who had ever had a truly monogamous relationship, but he wanted to believe those existed.He’d heard about them.He started picking at the frayed edge of his sleeve.

“Under normal circumstances I would not think so, but your situation is not normal.Ian is one of the best managed bipolar people I have met and we are lucky that his episodes tend to follow particular patterns of behavior.This means we can plan for it, however the underlying fact is in a manic state he is likely to have sex outside of your relationship.This is especially true if there is no sex inside your relationship. I do not say this to pressure you. It is merely a statement of fact.Whatever plan you agree to, it needs to address this.”

“If I could just...” let him fuck me.That would solve one of their problems, but, “He’d still cheat.He did it before.”

“As an unmedicated teenager, yes, he did.”

“He did it two weeks ago.”Mickey grimaced.He didn’t want to be this guy who was so hung up on cheating.He had never been too concerned about it before, but now that he couldn’t hold up his end of a relationship it was a huge issue for him. 

“It was two years from the last major manic episode to this one.It was caught, addressed and over in a week.If he is holding together this well during such a trying time, I think it is realistic to anticipate you have some time before you have to deal directly with the issue of fidelity again.” 

“So just let it ride for now?”Mickey asked, because what else could he really do?They wouldn't know if a safe word and wing man would work until Ian had another manic episode.

“Is this a deal breaker issue for you, Mickey?”Dr. Mohammed asked, shifting forward in his chair.The look on his face was gentle and accepting.He would not be mad if Mickey couldn’t take it.

Could he take it?Could he be in a relationship with someone he knew would cheat on him?Was it even cheating if he knew it was happening?Maybe Ian wouldn’t cheat.Maybe Dr. Mohammed was right and he had some time to figure himself out before it was an issue again. But what if they could have sex and Ian still fucked other guys?What then?Fuck.Walking away now seemed premature, but staying seemed like setting himself up for a world of pain.“I don’t know, doc.”

“Very well.”

“That’s it?Very well?What the fuck am I supposed to do with that?”

“I cannot solve this for you, Mickey.If your relationship was destructive, if it was abusive, this would be a different conversation.”

“Fuck.”

“You are doing the work Mickey, but you have to be gentle with yourself.Rome was not built in a day.It took time.”

“It fell apart pretty fucking fast too.”

“If you include the Byzantines it lasted for 2000 years.”

“Really?”

“Yes.If you exclude them 500 years which is still more than enough time for you, Mikhailo Milkovich, to decide what kind of relationship you want to have.”

“Funny.”

“You have done what you can to plan for the next time.Focus on what is happening now.” Dr. Mohammed said and then switched gears. “How was the funeral?”

“It was a fucking funeral.It sucked.”Mickey deadpanned.

“How are things with the little girl?”

“Frannie?She’s okay.”Mickey shrugged.Though now he was thinking about her, he wondered out loud.“It’s sort of weird, like she trusts me.”

“You are a parent.”Dr. Mohammed reminded him.

At best, he was a glorified sperm donor.“Ian has way more experience with kids.”

“Perhaps, but from what I know of you both, I think you are a natural leader.You step up and take charge.Ian is more accustomed to being the steadying force, the second in command if you will.”

“He’s a fucking CEO!”Mickey exclaimed.Ian was definitely more of a leader than Mickey could ever claim to be.Mickey worked for someone else.Ian was his own boss. 

“Who, according to you, allows Svetlana to do all of the managerial work, just like Fiona did, and just like you do.In his business he is the visionary and spokesman, but it is other people who build and manage.In his personal life, he is the one who stays the course, not the one who sets it.He follows your lead.”Dr. Mohammed explained.“Children are very adept at figuring out power structures.”

Mickey snorted.Ian might stay the course, but that was because he set it.He charmed people into thinking what he wanted was what they wanted and then sat back and supported the effort.It was the genius of Ian’s leadership style.

Dr. Mohammed just looked at him with a bland expression. 

Mickey rolled his eyes and returned to the topic of Frannie.“So she thinks I’m the nut to crack?”

Dr. Mohammed nodded.“Or she intrinsically knows you are the reliable one.”

That gave Mickey pause.He had never thought of himself as reliable before so he had to think about that for a moment.Was he reliable?He didn’t feel like he was, but compared to a guy with bipolar...yeah, he was the reliable one, which was just fucked up.“Poor kid.”

“Have you decided to stay?”Dr. Mohammed asked.

It was a leading question.It felt so natural at Ian’s house, like it was a sort of normal he aspired to, but it wasn’t real.They weren’t boyfriends.They weren’t lovers.They weren’t anything and Mickey didn’t want to be just Ian’s roommate.“Haven’t been thinking about it much.Too much else going on.”

Dr. Mohammed gave him a look, uncrossed his legs and leaned forward.“Very well.Let’s discuss the elephant in the room.Dr. Brynner called me this morning.”

“Fuck.”Mickey should have known.Sometimes he regretted authorizing their shrinks talking to each other.

“We talked about how as we move deeper into your experiences, these attacks were likely to become more frequent.”Dr. Mohammed reminded him.

“Yeah.”They had talked about it, true.They were starting to delve into what he remembered about what had happened to him and it was hard.It hurt.He hated it.His knee started bouncing and his side started to ache.

“Did you take the Ativan?”

“It came on too fast, but I’m on it now.”He had taken one this morning and then again right before he came into the office.

“I’m going to increase your Zoloft.The Ativan is meant only as a rescue.”

“Yeah. Okay.”Mickey agreed.He didn’t want to take the Ativan any more than he had to.In the past he had liked the chemical calm it induced a little too much.Now, he wanted not to need it.

“What triggered the episode?”Dr. Mohammed asked.

“I thought about blowing Ian.”Mickey confessed, staring Dr. Mohammed in the face daring him to pass judgement on the gayness of sucking another man’s dick.Dr. Mohammed was as placid as ever.Mickey was almost disappointed because it left him with no choice but to confess why it had triggered him. “Did you know one of them made me suck him off?”

“No, I did not.”

Mickey had known there were things he didn’t remember. He had suffered a concussion early in the event so what he did know was just bits and pieces of the whole.He had been content with trying to suppress that until Ian had come back into his life.Then there had been no ignoring what had happened to him, because what he wanted was right there.Right in front of him and totally unattainable unless he dealt with his shit.Dealing with his shit was hard as fuck though.“Did you know they stuck a pipe up my ass?”

“Yes.It was how you sustained the ruptured bowel.”Dr. Mohammed said, his expression neutral.

“You didn’t tell me.”Mickey snarled, angry his shrink had withheld information from him.That he did not want to know was not the salient point.

“It was going to come out in it’s own time.Forcing you to remember things might make this go faster, but it could be devastating for your mental health.”Dr. Mohammed replied. 

Suddenly Mickey’s anger dissipated and though he was terrified of the answer, he asked, “Is there worse shit than that?”

Dr. Mohammed took a moment to think before he replied.“Not that I am aware of, no.But I only know what happened to you based on physical injuries mentioned in your medical record.”

“So there could be worse shit.”Mickey said, feeling like he was choking on the words.

“Possibly.Tell me, is your side bothering you again?”

“Yeah.” Mickey had not noticed he was rubbing it, but it did hurt.“More, now that I know why.”

“There is nothing physically wrong.”Dr. Mohammed reassured him. 

“Still hurts like a motherfucker though.” Mickey replied, well aware they had done a lot of testing to try to figure out what was causing the pain and found nothing.They had told him it was phantom pains from the bowel resection.“It’s all in my head, huh?”

“It is psychosomatic pain, yes.”Dr. Mohammed replied, just as every other doctor had told him about this particular pain.

“Will it ever go away?”Mickey asked, trying to ignore it now that he was very aware of it.He pulled his hand away from his side and held on to the chair arm instead.

“I believe it will.Once you have worked through your trauma, it will ease.”

“Jesus.”Mickey muttered.He wished there was a way to make it go faster, or be less horrible.As much as he hated ever second of what they were doing now, he had to face it.He had to do this if he was ever going to get his life back, but fuck did it suck.

“On, that note, shall we dive a little deeper?” 

***

“Hey, Mickey.It’s time to go pick up Frannie.You wanna come?”Ian called as he trotted down the stairs into the kitchen.He had had a productive day and he was feeling pretty good.

“Yeah.Let me wash my hands.”Mickey agreed as he slapped the last ball of dough into a large glass bowl and covered it with cling film.

“Is all of that bread?”Ian asked as he watched Mickey wash his hands and dry them.There were bowls all over the kitchen. 

“Yeah.I made more of the Amish bread, honey wheat, some sour dough and that will be baguettes.”Mickey said as he crutch walked to the elevator and waited for it to arrive.

It was enough bread to feed the Gallagher army.“You know there are only three of us now, right?”

“Fuck off.It freezes.”Mickey blew him off as the elevator dinged to announce it’s arrival.

“So you’re going to be baking all night.”Ian surmised.He did not know much about the art of bread making, but he did know it had to rise before it could be baked.

“Nah.Amish bread is done.I’ll bake the honey wheat when we get back and the other two have to proof overnight.”Mickey told him as he exited the elevator.

“I guess we’ll order in dinner.”Ian said as he opened the coat closet and retrieved their winter wear.

“I have a chicken and roast vegetables, just went in the oven. It’ll be ready by six.”Mickey told him, shrugging on his coat.

“Wow.”Ian was impressed and a little upset at how much cooking Mickey was doing.He knew it was an escape, but things had to be pretty bad if the smaller man was doing so much to distract himself.

“Needed to turn my mind off.”Mickey explained pulling a knit skull cap down over his ears. “Probably be doing a lot of that so you either need to prepare to get fat or do a lot more running.”

“Duly noted.” Ian said as he pulled on his own hat and opened the front door.“I got a car.”

“Thank Christ.”Mickey muttered as he stepped out onto the stoop and started to make his way painfully down the stairs.

“Are you okay?”Ian asked, hovering near Mickey, ready to catch him if he stumbled on the icy steps.

“Yeah.Let’s roll.”Mickey said as he made it to the pavement and pulled open the rear door of the sedan he assumed (correctly) was there for them.

“It looked like she had a pretty good time today.”Ian said, climbing into the car beside Mickey.He had been watching her off and on all day on the schools cameras.It was a feature he very much liked.

“You were watching on the school spy cam.”

“Like you didn’t.”Ian snorted, 100 percent certain Mickey had also been watching to make sure Frannie was okay.

“I checked in once or twice.”Mickey admitted.

“We have a new DCFS case worker.Her name is Connie and we’re supposed to meet her at the Ancient Playground in Central Park on Saturday at 10 for the first visitation.”

“So Debbie’s coming?”Mickey asked.

“Connie said she left her two messages.”Ian told Mickey, aware this was not a good look for a first visit. 

“What the fuck?”

“I called, but she let it go to voicemail.I don't know what’s going on with her.”Avoiding his calls he almost understood since he was the one with custody of her daughter and she was pissed about that, but avoiding the case worker was just stupid. 

“If she doesn’t make her visitation, she risks not getting Frannie back.”Mickey reminded him as if Ian didn’t know this.

“I know.”Ian agreed, well aware.He wanted Debbie to get her daughter back.The idea of insta-family with Mickey had been pleasant for about 30 seconds and then it became a liability, so it would be better if Debbie did what she had to do to get her kid back so Ian could devote himself entirely to the work of building a relationship with Mickey.

“She needs to get her ass up here.”

Ian agreed, but there was an obvious flaw.“She can’t live with me.”

“She could stay with Svetlana or Mandy for a while until she gets on her feet.”Mickey scoffed.

“Already suggested that.Mandy even called and offered.”He had not even had to ask her to. Mandy was oddly determined to have Debbie do the right thing for her daughter.It felt like it was some baggage of her own Mandy was working through, but since he also wanted Debbie to make the move, he didn’t argue against the offer.Mandy would let him supplement for Debbie without telling his idiot sister about it.That would help everyone.

“She needs to get her ass up here.”Mickey repeated.

“I talked to Fiona today so she knows about the visitation, too.Hopefully she can get Debbie on a plane or a fucking bus, whatever.”Ian was hoping she could.

“It took 17 hours on a bus.I looked into the train but that cost more and took even longer.”Mickey informed him.“How often are the visits?”

“Every other week.”To start with.They could become more frequent if Debbie did the work outlined in her plan.What had really sucked about it was how hard it had been to get the case worker to agreed to visitation that might actually be possible for someone with a full time job.“It was like asking the Red Sea to part to get Connie to agree to Saturdays in the park.”

Mickey did some quick calculations and summed up the situation.“So Debbie loses two days income and two weekends every month for an hour long visit with her daughter by staying in Chicago.”

“Obviously, she should move up here.”Ian agreed.His sister was stubborn to the point of stupid in his opinion but he could not make her do the right thing.No one could.

“Nothing is ever obvious with Debbie.”Mickey snorted.Then he asked, “Do you ever wonder if she’s bipolar, too?”

As the car pulled to a stop in front of the daycare, Ian thought about Debbie’s mental health and decided she might have a temper but she wasn’t bipolar.“She’s not.She’s never been depressed.”

“Some other mental illness then.”Mickey asked as he climbed out of the car.

Debbie definitely had anger management issues and she could be impulsive, but Ian didn’t find any of that particularly strange.As he held open the door to the daycare for Mickey he said, “Or she’s an 18 year old single mom who thinks it’s her against the world.”

“Maybe.”Mickey shrugged as Joan, the daycare’s head administrator came around to greet them. 

Getting Frannie into a daycare that included pre-school had been no easy feat.Ian had contacted a bunch of different institutions in his neighborhood.All of the top tier said no, even when offered extra incentives.The second tier was also challenging.However, a newer institution that was making a name for itself finally said yes.Ian had sold them on Frannie the same way he had sold Claymore’s initial investors: by pointing out the hardships being overcome and the PR win that comes from backing a dark horse that succeeds.He had also offered to pay a ‘late enrollment fee’ as well as publicly show his support.They opted to take the deal.

Mickey viewed it as mercenary extortion confirming his low opinion of wealthy people which he had opined on long and loud on the flight home from Chicago.It was stupid, Ian agreed, but he couldn’t just send Frannie to any old place.It wasn’t just appearances.It was the opportunities he could now afford to give her.

After an exchange of pleasantries that clearly got on Mickey’s nerves they were guided back to Frannie’s classroom so they could pick her up.Mickey immediately pushed past Ian and Joan to go say hello to his foster daughter.“Hey Frannie, who’s your friend?”

Ian slowly followed him, listening as Frannie introduced her new friends to Mickey.“This is Farhan. That’s Elsa and Sumara.”

“It’s the United Colors of Benetton.Cute.” Mickey joked, taking in the fact that all of the kids were ethnically different, if not socioeconomically.Ian worried Mickey was going to say something Ian would regret, but the brunette was smiling in a way that Ian knew meant he was pleased. “You ready to go home?”

“Okay.”Frannie nodded and then asked,“What’s for dinner?”

“Roast chicken, potatoes and carrots.I also made the Amish bread you like.”Mickey informed her.

“Yummy!”Frannie cheered.

“Your dad cooks?” Farhan asked looking at Mickey like he was a unicorn. “My parents just order in all the time.”

“He’s a really really good cook.He’s a chef!”Frannie boasted, hugging on to Mickey’s side possessively.

Ian noticed how Frannie had not corrected the assumption Mickey was her father.

“I’m actually a forensic accountant, but thanks for the vote of confidence, kid.”Mickey demurred, though he had puffed up a little with the compliment.

“Frannie did pretty well today, all things considered, but she does display some anger issues.That’s understandable in the circumstances and will get better as she settles in.I’m more worried that she is markedly behind in her reading and math skills.”Joan told Ian as Frannie’s teacher helped Mickey with Frannie’s coat and mittens to get dressed for the ride home.

“This isn’t even kindergarten.How can she be behind?”Ian asked, surprised reading and math were even a part of daycare.He thought it was about learning colors and shapes and maybe the alphabet. 

“I would suggest hiring a tutor as soon as possible.”Joan told him, expression serious, as if somehow Frannie’s entire future would be determined before she actually started kindergarten.

“She’s four.”Ian protested. 

“And cannot read ‘see Spot run’.She needs some individualized work to get up to par with her peers.”Joan told him as Mickey and a now dressed Frannie made their way toward them.

“We’ll talk about it.”Ian said to end the conversation.As they were walking out to the car he asked Mickey, “Can you believe that?”

“This is one of those fancy ass college prep places.What did you expect?”Mickey shrugged as if this should be obvious.He held open the sedan door so Frannie could get into the car between them.

“That kids would learn to read in actual school like normal human beings?”Ian asked, as he moved around to the street side of the sedan and climbed in. 

“I can read.” Frannie told them.

Mickey patted her hand and then said, “We’ll just buy some books and start reading with her.Work on the ABCs and sh..stuff.” 

Ian looked across Frannie to Mickey and loved what he was seeing. “You know how dad you sound right now?” 

“Screw you.”Mickey said while flipping him the bird over Frannie’s head.

***

“Do you want me to sleep on the couch?”Ian asked as he stepped out of the closet in his pajamas.Since no one was staying with them anymore, Mickey could go back to his old room if he wanted, but Ian wasn’t going to suggest it.He liked sharing a bed, but if it was too hard on Mickey he would take the couch so at least they were still in the same room.

“Why would I want that?”Mickey asked.He was already in bed.

Ian paused.He wanted to share the bed, but he didn’t want to set Mickey off again. “Because, like last night, I just don’t want to...”

“Not your fault.”Mickey sighed and ran a hand down his face.“I’m honestly not sure that had anything to do with you at all.I’m just dealing with some pretty ugly shit right now.”

“Okay.”Ian knew Mickey and Dr. Mohammed had started working though the rape.Ian went to get into bed but then noticed the huge pile of pillows on the couch. The wall had been getting tossed off the bed a lot more lately, but he had to ask,“Do you want me to restore the Great Pillow Wall?”

Mickey looked at him.“Nah, no need.It’ll just end up on the floor anyway.”

Ian climbed into bed and switched off the bedside light.The room went dark.He rolled on his side and snuggled deeper under the covers.He had just gotten comfortable when Mickey asked, “What?No kiss good night?”

“Oh.Yeah.Sure.”Ian unburied himself and crawled over to Mickey’s side of the bed.In the dark he could see very little so he went slow, running a hand along the pillow line until he found Mickey’s shoulder.He let his hand run up to Mickey’s cheek and then he leaned in and kissed him.It was more sweet than sexual, like a reconnection.

Mickey was the one who broke it off, patting Ian’s cheek in a way that Ian knew meant the smaller man was done.He bent down and planted a brief kiss on Mickey’s forehead before crawling back over to his side of the bed.

Ian was on the brink of sleep when Mickey said, “It was sucking you off.”

That woke him back up.“What?”

“That’s what got me.I was thinking about sucking you off and then I remembered.One of them mouth raped me.It was like going straight back there and then I remembered the pipe and I lost my shit.”

“But now you can talk about it like this?”Ian asked because while he had been expecting some sort of blurted out explanation, he had not expected Mickey to seem so calm when it happened.

“Two milligrams of Ativan says, yes.I can talk about it.” Mickey snapped.“He also upped my Zoloft to 100 milligrams.”

“Okay.”The Ativan explained the calm.Upping Mickey’s Zoloft seemed like a good idea to Ian.The attack had been horrible and he did not want Mickey to have to go through that again.

“Mo says I can expect to do a lot more of this.” 

“That sucks, Mickey.”

“He says it’ll get worse before it gets better.”

Ian and Dr. Brynner were also talking about it. Mickey would need a lot of time, space and patience while he worked through the worst of it.He would be emotionally labile with an undercurrent of anger that was as much inward as outward.He would push harder and pull back just as violently as he slowly made his way to the core of the pain.It would crescendo and then start to ebb.Ian just had to be both patient and forgiving if he wanted the outcome to be the restoration of their relationship.“Anything I can do to help?”

“Nah, man.Just be patient with me if you can.”Mickey muttered.

“I’ve got all the time in the world for you.”


	55. Ancient Playground

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I have no children, just vicarious living through my sisters kids. I know the cupcake thing is likely not allowed, but like many other things in this story, it’s fiction and not entirely realistic.
> 
> Also, I’m reworking a section a couple chapters from here that has far reaching implications down the line so updates may be a little slower for a while. Sorry for the inconvenience.
> 
> lastly, sorry to an Debbie fans. Someone has to be the antagonist. 😬

“Figured she wouldn’t show.”Mickey muttered at 10:45 on Saturday morning. 

It was a beautiful, cold day to be outside in the park and Ian was considering taking Frannie to go ice skating after the visitation-that-wasn’t ended.Debbie was a no-show. 

According to Fiona, Debbie was picking up a lot of overtime hours.According to Liam, she was going out a lot at night.Maybe she was doing night shifts, but it didn’t really matter.She had not called to cancel this visit so Ian, Mickey and Connie were all at the park with Frannie freezing their butts off waiting for her.

Ian’s phone rang. It was Debbie trying to FaceTime him.

Ian went over to the disgruntled looking case worker before he answered.“Hey Connie, it’s my sister.I can answer this, right, since we still have a few minutes?”

“Give it to me.”She snatched the phone out of his hand and answered the call. “Hello, Ms. Gallagher.”

Ian was watching over Connie’s shoulder.Debbie looked terrible.There were circles under her eyes and her hair was a mess.She was also clearly surprised to see Connie.“Oh, hi.You must be Connie, right?I’m so sorry I got caught at work and I couldn’t...”

“This was supposed to be your first visitation with your daughter.”Connie snapped, cutting off Debbie’s excuse.“These visits are important not only to maintain continuity for your child, but to show the courts you’re doing the work you’ve been mandated to do to get your daughter back.”

“I know.I just couldn’t...”

“I will let you FaceTime with your daughter, but Ms. Gallagher, I expect to see you here in two weeks.If that is not possible, I expect you to call my office to make arrangements.Am I making myself clear?”Connie said.

“Yeah.You’re clear.”Debbie acknowledged with a passive aggressive smile that made Ian angry.Connie handed him the phone.

Mickey was watching him when Ian called out, “Hey Frannie, come tell your mom about your new school, huh?”

Frannie almost fell in her haste to get off the jungle gym.She ran to Ian and snatched the phone out of his hand asking, “Mommy?”

“I knew she wouldn’t show.”Mickey repeated as Ian sat beside him on the bench.Connie had moved closer to Frannie so she could monitor the conversation.Frannie was too happy to be talking to her mother to notice or care.

“At least she called.”Ian shrugged.It wasn’t enough but at least it was something.

“Too little, too late, man.She should have at least shown up for the first one.” Mickey said. “Connie’s pissed.”

“If I were her I would be, too.Work?What kind of excuse is that?If it was work she knew she had to be there days ago and should have called to reschedule or something.”Ian opined.He remembered vividly how horrible it had been to be removed by DCFS.It had been terrifying and lonely and had he not had his siblings he didn’t know what he would have done.Watching Debbie make the same mistakes their parents made cut him to the quick.

Mickey nodding and then the silence stretched out as both of them were lost in thought about their own experiences.

Ian was jolted out of his thoughts when Frannie started screaming.

“Ian?Can you come help me?”Connie called, trying to take the phone from Frannie.

This would be a two man job.Mickey was Frannie’s preferred person, so they had already decided if Debbie showed up and it was a shit show like it had been on the tarmac, then Ian was going to be the one taking Frannie away.It killed him to be the bad guy, but the little girl needed someone she could trust and she had chosen Mickey.“Mickey?”

“I’m on it.”Mickey said, standing slowly and following Ian towards the hysterical little girl and Connie.

“It’s time to go, Frannie.”Ian said, scooping her up in his arms and walking her back from the phone.

“Mommy!Mommy!”She screamed struggling to get out of his arms.It made tears spring to his eyes.

“Frannie!”He heard an equally hysterical Debbie cry out from his phone.

Mickey snatched the phone away from Connie and snarled, “For fuck’s sake.Cut the drama.You’re making this hella hard on your kid with your hysterics.She’s been doing pretty good, but five minutes with you and she’s a goddamn basket case.Grow the fuck up, Debbie Gallagher.”

“Mickey!”Ian scolded side eyeing the case worker who was watching him.

In a quieter tone Mickey continued, “You should have called and told all of us you weren’t gonna to make it.You wasted everyone’s time.”

“I’m trying...”Debbie hiccuped, trying to defend her absence.

“No, you're feeling fucking sorry for yourself.”Mickey chided, glaring down into the phone. “Two weeks from now, you will behave like a grown ass woman and you will make sure your daughter knows you love her.You will not break down like some wanna-be prom queen who lost.You will keep your shit together and be strong for your kid.Got it?”

“Fuck you, Mickey!”Debbie shouted from the phone.

“Oh, no.You already put a kid on me.You are not putting your pity party on me, too.You fucked it up.You fix it.”He sounded and looked like he was starting to calm down.If only the same could be said about the hysterical little girl in Ian’s arms.

“I’m doing the best I can.”Debbie sounded like she was crying now.

“No.The best you can would be moving up here so you can make these visits.It would be making sure when you part with Frannie you’re brave about it so she’s not hysterical.It would be taking Ian up on his offer to help you make a good life for you and your daughter.”

“I don't need his help.”

“We all need help.You think I’d be here without a fuck ton of help?Shit, I’d be in a pine box if a lot of people hadn’t had my back.”Mickey said, chiding, but no longer irate.

“I can do it on my own.I took extra shifts so I can afford to move to New York.I should be able to next month.I forgot to call, sorry, but I’m working on getting up there and getting my daughter back.” 

“Good.If you need help getting a place or a job, we have friends.We can help you.”Mickey offered.Ian wondered who he was referring to because he didn’t know anyone who needed a welder.

“No.”She said quickly, then added.“I might have found a place and I’ve set up some interviews.I can do it.”

Mickey chuckled and shook his head. “Why does it always have to be the hard way with you?”

“Like you can talk.”

“That was six years ago, Debbie.I’m not that proud these days.”Mickey replied, glancing at Ian.“We all need people we can lean on.”

“I’ll make the next meeting, I swear.”Debbie promised.

“Good.Also, start taking Connie’s calls.You need her on your side.”Mickey admonished.“And be nice to your brother.”

“But...”

“He’s doing you a huge solid.Quit punishing him for it.”Mickey demanded, sounding like a man unaccustomed to hearing the word ‘no’. 

“It just sucks.”Debbie whined.

Mickey wasn’t having it. “Yeah.It does.Get your shit straight so they can fast track your case and all of us, especially Frannie, can get back to normal.”

***

Frannie was in a snit.She had been basically impossible since FaceTiming with Debbie.Ian was also grouchy, trying to be nice to the little girl who was acting as if he was responsible for separating her from her mother.It upset Mickey, but there was fuck all he could do about it other than try to bridge the gap.It wasn't like Frannie was being much nicer to him anyway.

“Is she ready for school yet?”Ian asked, trotting down the stairs dressed for the office.He looked fucking amazing dressed in a deep burgundy three piece suit with white shirt and orange tie and pocket square.He had meetings all day which meant he was going to drop Frannie off at school on his way in and Mickey would pick her up. 

“Still working on it.”Mickey admitted.Frannie was just as obstinate as her mother.She did not want to go to school and was refusing to put on her uniform.Mickey had decided to give her a few more minutes to think about it before he put her school clothes in a bag and made Ian take her in her PJs.

“When will this end?”Ian groaned, slipping onto a stool.

“When she’s ready to not be mad at us anymore, which will probably be tonight when she gets back from school.She just needs a distraction.”Mickey said, finishing putting away the leftovers from breakfast.He really hoped he was right because he couldn’t take much more of this.

“How are you holding up?”Ian asked, standing up and heading to the coffee machine for another cup.

“Fine.”Mickey lied.It was getting to him how upset Frannie was.

“Excited to start back to work?”Ian asked, changing the subject and handing Mickey a fresh cup of coffee.

“Fuck yes.”Mickey exclaimed, glad for the momentary distraction.After a ton of negotiation, he was finally allowed to work from home.Tom and Clive were coming over personally to make a final check of the security and then leave him with a case file.“I hate having nothing to do.”

“You have PT today, too, right?”Ian asked.

“Yeah.”Mickey nodded.Rehabbing his knee was worse than rehabbing his hip, but little by little he was starting to feel stronger.“You’ll be back in time for dinner?”

“Yep.” Ian agreed, glancing at his watch.“We need to get going soon.”

“I’ll go see what I can do.”Mickey got up and crutch walked his way to the elevator and up to the forth floor.He knocked on the little girl’s door and asked, “Frannie, are you dressed yet?”

As he pushed the door open she pushed back on it whining, “Noooo.”

Mickey used his superior strength to push open the door wide enough to get through and looked down at the obstinate little ginger still in her pajamas.“Okay.We talked about this.I guess you’re going to school in your PJs, kid.”

“You’re mean!”She yelled at him.

“Yeah.Super mean.”Mickey agreed picking up the uniform that was still laid out on the bed and folding it into her school backpack.He then held the door open and gestured for her to walk through it.“Come on.”

“No!”She crossed her arms over her little chest and glared at him, chin raised just like her uncle.

It was time to go for the jugular. “Your friends are expecting you.You don't want to disappoint them do you?”

“I’m not going!”She shouted.

“So you’re not going to take them the cupcakes you were bragging about last Friday?They sure will be sad.”Mickey made a disappointed face.

“You made the cupcakes without me?”Frannie asked, looking angry.

He had indeed made them without her.He had known seeing her mother would upset her and had talked about it some with Dr. Mohammed who had advised him to set up something fun for her to do afterwards to help her want to get back to her routine. 

Since she liked to brag about his cooking, Mickey offered to make something for her to take to class on Monday.She decided on cupcakes.He had never made cupcakes, never thought he would ever make cupcakes, much less gluten free, nut free, vegan cupcakes, but it was amazing what kids could get a grown man to do when pressed.

“Yeah, I made cupcakes because I don’t like disappointing people.”Mickey said.She had barely spoken to him or Ian since they came home from the park on Saturday.She had spent most of her time sulking in her room with Scraggles. 

Aware he needed to get her to go to school Monday, Mickey had decided to bake the cupcakes to use as a guilt trip.It was time to see if it would work. “Are you going to be mean to your friends and not take them the cupcakes you promised?”

“I’m not mean.”She grumbled, looking thoughtful.He had hit the nerve he had hoped to strike.

“I know you’re not.”Mickey agreed, thinking if she was allowed to keep behaving like this she would end up mean.She had the same streak her mother had. “So you’ll get dressed so you can take the cupcakes to school?”

“I’m not a bad friend.”She told him grabbing her bag out of his hand and pulling out her uniform.

“No, you’re not, because friends keep their word and you are keeping yours.”Mickey replied glad children were so easy to manipulate.Then as a somewhat guilty afterthought he added, “I’m proud of you.”

She stopped pulling on her skirt and looked at him with huge, wet eyes.“I miss my mommy, Mickey.”

It was a look he knew meant a hug was needed.He hobbled over to the chair in the corner of her room and sat down, setting aside the crutches.He held his arms out to her.“I know, kid.She’s trying.It just takes time.”

She stepped into them and let him hug her as she cried.After a long moment she finally sniffled and asked. “Why did Ian take me away?”

He pushed her back a little so he could dry her tears and attempt to smooth her very unruly curls.“Ian didn’t take you away, short cake.Child Protective Services did because your mom made a really big mistake.They gave you to me and Ian so we could take care of you until your mom learns her lesson.”

“I’m being punished, too.”She whined.

“True.”Mickey agreed.She was being punished and it was not her fault what had happened to her. 

“I just wanna go home.”She told him slapping his hand away when his fingers got caught in a tangle.

“I feel you, kid.This same thing happened to me when I was your age, but I had to go live with strangers who weren’t nice to me.Your uncle Ian had to do the same thing, so as much as I know this sucks for you, it could be a lot worse.”Mickey told her as he held out a clip-in bow for Frannie to yay or nay.

She shook her head so he presented her with another and another until she chose one.When he had one she liked she turned her back to him so he could put it in her hair and asked, “Your mommy got you back?”

Mickey gently ran his fingers through her hair to gather up enough of it to clip in the bow and keep her hair out of her eyes.He had never in a million years thought he would be putting a bow in a little girl’s hair.It felt weird as hell and he fumbled with it.“Yeah, after a long time.”

“That was good right?”She asked.

“Sure.”Mickey agreed removing the bow and trying again.

“You don’t sound like it was good.”She told him.

“It was the devil I knew so in that sense it was better.You’re very lucky to have an uncle like Ian.I didn’t have that.Your mom, too.”At least she’s not a junkie, he thought but did not say.

“You had a mean mommy?”She asked as she followed his gesture and turned around so he could critique his work.The bow was straight at least.

“No.I have a very mean father.My mom was just really broken.She wanted to be a good mom, but she couldn’t do it.”Mickey told her.He hated talking about his mother, but Frannie needed him to reassure her.As much as his story could be reassuring, that was.

“Is my mommy broken?”She asked and the sincerity of the question reminded Mickey kids were often wise beyond their years. 

Debbie wasn’t exactly broken, but she was far from together.“No babydoll, your mom is just stubborn as hell.”

“Do you know my dad?”Frannie asked, shrugging into her little suit jacket.

“Nah, never met him.I don't even know the dude’s name.”Mickey replied shooing her out of her room and toward the elevator now that she was dressed.

“Me either.”She told him as the elevator carried them down to the first floor where Ian was waiting for them.

“Sometimes that’s better, you know?”I wish I didn’t know my dad, Mickey thought.“Besides, you have Ian and me.You got your other uncles too.That’s gotta be better than one absentee father, right?”

“Yeah, I guess.”Frannie agreed as Ian met them on the first floor holding open her coat, eyes on Mickey as he did so.

“Ian, do you have the cupcakes?”She asked as she let him help her into her coat.

“Sure do.Banana cupcakes are right here.So is the recipe so the school knows what’s in them.”He pointed toward the carrier box next to his backpack.

It was the only way the school allowed outside food to be brought in for the kids. Had to be gluten free, nut free and vegan.Also had to include the recipe just in case there was an allergy to one of the ingredients.Parents of kids who still couldn’t have the treats had to bring in treats their kids could eat to have on standby for these occasions.It had been a pain in the ass, but at least Frannie was dressed and ready to go.That made the extra effort worth it.

“Okay.Let’s do this.”She told them as she gave Scraggles an ear scratch and then headed for the front door. 

Ian picked up both backpacks and the cupcake carrier before he walked over to Mickey and kissed him briefly.“See you tonight.”

“Yeah.”Mickey agreed as Frannie pulled on the door handle and then turned around to glare at them.

Mickey watched them leave and then went back to the elevator as Scraggles went out his doggie door.

When he made it up to the third floor and his office his phone chirped in his pocket.It was from Ian.//The Chicago DCFS documents had reports about the kidnapping so NY knows about her paternal family//

//And?// Mickey asked.Did this mean they were going to seek custody of Frannie?Would the courts give her to family that had tried to kidnap her?

//And there’s another hearing on 2/12 to include them in the process.Lawyer doesn’t think they’ll pull her from us, but maybe.//

Mickey’s heart sank a little.Whoever her father was, he was Southside which meant the kid would end up right back in the same shit hole neighborhood he and Ian had grown up in living with people she didn’t know.Mickey didn’t want that for her.//Great//

The dots indicating Ian was typing appeared, disappeared and then finally he got, //Because you want them to take her?//

No.Mickey didn’t want them to take her.He wanted her to go back to her mother as soon as possible before he got even more attached.//I want things to settle down for Frannie’s sake//

Ian didn’t respond which Mickey took to mean Ian didn’t believe him and was mad about it.He didn’t really have time for upset Ian though since he was about to see his boss for the first time in months.


	56. Working

Tom, Mickey’s boss at Wolf, Pratt & Stephens, whistled when he entered the house, Clive hot on his heels.

“This is some place!” Tom exclaimed looking around as Clive just glared at Mickey.

“I know, right?”Mickey agreed, looking around again himself.He had gotten used to it, but seeing it through the eyes of other people threw how insane it was back into the forefront of his thoughts.No one ever would have imagined a guy like him living in a place like this.

“Clive came with me.”Tom told him with an eye roll.

“S’up.”Mickey offered in greeting to the tall, round man who was ogling the bar like a mouse drools over cheese. 

Clive nodded at him as he continued to look around.

Tom cleared his throat and told Mickey, “So, you know securing our data is very important.Ijust wanted to see what the physical situation looked like before I had the currier bring over the files. We’ve never had anyone work from home before.”

“Yeah, no problem.This way.”Mickey said, guiding the older man to the elevator and it’s gorgeous wrought iron cage.

The door dinged open and they rode it in silence up to the third floor.They stepped out on to the landing in front of the huge abstract painting Mickey had come to love and turned toward the offices at the front of the house.

Mickey pointed. “So that’s Ian’s office there.He works from home a lot.The security is super tight.That door only opens to Ian.It requires face and voice I.D. and has a passcode back up.If he’s in the office he has to tell it to unlock to let people in.Mine is that door over there and it’s set up the same way.”

“So Ian can enter?”Clive asked.Walking ahead of Mickey and Tom to the door and trying the lock.

Mickey rolled his eyes.“No.It’s the same set up.The door automatically locks, so I have to tell the security system to unlock to let someone else in.”

“Show me.”Tom asked.

“Mildred, I’m going to work.”Which was the phrase required to open the door.

It did not automatically unlock.Instead Mildred’s calm voice said, “Please identify the two men with you.”

“This is Tom Stevens and that’s Clive Pratt.”Mickey pointed to each man as if Mildred were a person and could identify them by a gesture.“They will be going to work also.” 

The system was set up so he could let people in once he was inside, no problem.However, if people were going in with him he had to identify them using this specific phrase or, according to Ethan, Mildred would automatically lock down the the office and alert the police to a potential hostage situation.

It was some serious spy movie bullshit in Mickey’s opinion, but whatever.Ethan was an overgrown kid with a bipolar manager working at a gaming company.There was going to be some crazy shit from time to time.

“Very well. Please speak your full name, Tom.”

“Tom Edward Stevens.”

After a few seconds delay Mildred said, “Confirmed.Please speak your name, Clive.”

“The fuck is this?”Clive asked, looking around for mics and cameras which were not visible.

“It’s the AI Ethan built.It controls the house.You knew about this.”Mickey reminded the obese man.He really hated Clive.He was huge, dumb and used to getting his way.

“I didn’t know it controlled access to your office.That’s...I mean...security...”

“This is amazing.It’s like Jarvis. You know, from _Iron Man_.”Tom said, cutting off whatever rant Clive was about to start on.

It had taken him a while to get used to the AI, but once he did Mickey found her supremely useful.“She’s not quite that advanced, but yeah.She’s pretty cool.”

Clive wasn’t ready to give in yet.“But...”

Tom cut him off again. “Say your name Clive.”

“Clive Woodrow Pratt.This is a really bad...”

“I like it.”Tom said. “Does she sound like Mother from _Alien_?I think she sounds like Mother from _Alien_.”

“Confirmed.”Mildred announced.

“Ethan thought that was funny, so yeah.Mother from _Alien_.”It was just the sort of dark humor Mickey usually enjoyed.Tom smirked, clearly liking it too.

The lock clicked and Mickey pushed the door open revealing the beautiful, _Home and Gardens_ office Ian had had designed for him.It was flawless, like no one lived in it, which was true until today.

“Oh, now this is even nicer than my office.You trying to upstage me there, Milkovich?”Tom asked running a hand across the surface of the Art Deco desk.

Mickey shrugged. “I asked for a card table and folding chair. This is what I got.”

Clive started snooping.When he got to the antique looking file cabinets, Mickey told him, “The file cabinets have biometric locks and are fire rated.”

“How is the computer set up?”Clive shot back, as if he was not aware of the set up. He had had this computer couriered over after building it himself.

“The fuck should I know?You set it up.”Mickey snapped.“It’s on it’s own network, that’s all I got.”

“It’s on a separate network and there’s a VPN also to protect our data. The passwords for the VPN and PC need to be changed every three months.”Clive told Tom.

Mickey rolled his eyes.He knew Ethan had worked some other magic behind the scenes because the computer geek had complained long and loud about how shitty Clive’s set up was, but it was technical and Mickey didn’t really care as long as he got to work from home.

Tom clapped him on the shoulder. “This works for me, Mickey.I’ll have them send over the files.It’s an SDNY criminal fraud case.”

“Cool.”Mickey liked SDNY cases. 

“What about sweeping for bugs?”Clive asked.

“What?”Mickey and Tom asked in unison.

“You know, bugs.”Clive said as if they were the stupid ones.

“Do you ‘sweep for bugs’ at the office?”Mickey asked making air quotes.

“No, my security is on point, but here?How do I know there aren’t bugs?”

“Who the fuck would want to bug me?”Mickey asked. He was pretty sure this was just Clive being an asshole, but he turned to Tom and asked, “Is the case you’re giving me that sensitive?”

“I wouldn’t think so.”Tom replied, looking annoyed.

“I mean, if bugs matter, I can get Mildred to run a sweep for cameras and mics that aren’t hers or call in a company to look for them.”Mickey offered, just to pour fuel on the fire because this was fucking stupid and Clive needed to eat a little crow for even suggesting it.

“No, no.Clive is just being paranoid.”Tom quickly demurred. 

Clive wasn’t quite willing to let it go.“We’ve never farmed out work like this before.”

Tom turned to the eldest son of his business partner.“I work from home all the time and I don’t have half of this stuff.So does your dad.Can it, Clive.”

Then he turned to Mickey and held out a hand.“This’ll work, Milkovich.Glad to have you back.”

Mickey braced himself so he could let go of the crutch and shook his bosses hand.“Not half as glad as I am.”

***

“Did you know I have another name?”Frannie asked Mickey when she got into the sedan next to him.He had planned to go up to get her but one of the administrators had brought her and the empty cupcake box out to the car instead.

“Yeah.Harriet, right?That’s your middle name.”Mickey hoped he remembered it right.

She nodded and asked, “What’s yours?”

“Alexsandr.”Mickey wondered where she was going with this.

“Oh.What’s your last name?”She asked.

“Milkovich.”Mickey was working with her on memorizing Ian’s name, phone number and address so if she ever got lost she would know where she came from.It had not occurred to him to include himself in the equation, but maybe it should have.Just in case Ian was out of the country or something.

“Does Yev have your last name?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh.”Frannie took a second to process that.Then she asked,“What’s my dad’s last name?”

“No clue, kiddo.I don’t even know his first name.”

“Others kids have mommies and daddies.Most of my friends do, except my friend Sarah has two dads like you and Ian.My other friend Sumara has two mommies. Joseph lives with his grandparents because his mommy and daddy are dead.Is my daddy dead?”She looked up at him with huge dark blue eyes.

Oh, God help me, Mickey silently prayed.The driver caught his eye but the empathetic look on his face wasn’t going to help him.Mickey sighed.“I don’t know.”

“Because why wouldn’t he be my daddy if he wasn't dead?”

What had the kids at school been telling her?Christ.“I don’t know.”

“Maybe he doesn’t like me?”She asked, chin starting to tremble.

Mickey put an arm around her and pulled her against his side.“He doesn’t know you, sweet cheeks.If he did, I know he’d like you.”

“Because you like me?”She asked, snuggling into his side.

“Yeah, kid.I like you a lot.”Mickey agreed and squeezed her tight.

“Do you love me?”

As much as he didn’t want to admit it he said, “Yeah, I do.Even when you get back with your mom, I’m still gonna be around and be your friend, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Your friends like the cupcakes?”Mickey asked, trying to change the subject.

“They were super, duper yummie!”She exclaimed and then proceeded to tell him all about how the teacher let her pass them out for snacks.

***

“Holy fuck, that was a conversation.”Ian breathed after Mickey finished telling him about what Frannie had said in the car.“Sounds like you did really good.Better than I would have done.”

“Poor kid.”Mickey agreed, scooting his way over to Ian’s side of the bed.Seeing what Mickey was doing, Ian made it easier by meeting him in the middle.He ended up on his side facing Mickey, who asked, “What are the odds he demands custody now?”

“His name is Derek Delgado.He’s 20 and in the Air Force working on jet engines.He’s currently deployed.He ran away to Florida when Debbie told him she was pregnant so he’s never met Frannie.”Ian said.He reached out and brushed back a lock of hair on Mickey’s forehead.“The problem will be his mother Celia and his sister Tanya, both of whom have history with DCFS in Chicago related to Frannie.The lawyer doesn’t think the courts will pull Frannie from us and give her to them, but they will want to confirm paternity.Then, if Derek decides he wants custody, we battle it out in court.”

“He’s her dad.”Mickey reminded.

“Who has never met her, never even checked in on her.He’s just some guy Debbie tricked into getting her pregnant.He didn’t want this.”Ian said.Debbie had bulldozed her way into motherhood without considering Derek’s feelings at all.

“Maybe he does now.Four years is a long time.” 

Ian knew Mickey was thinking about his own entrance into fatherhood when he stood up for Derek.“You became a dad under way worse circumstances, but you didn’t leave.I mean, it was rough, but now you’re a great dad.”

“Six years later, yeah, okay.I’m an okay dad.Derek might be too.You never know.”

Ian glared at him.“Do you want her to go live with complete strangers?”

“Fuck no, but they’re her family too, man.If he wants to be father to his child, we shouldn’t stand in the way of that.”

“He hasn’t so far.”Ian sighed.The only Delgado who seemed to really want Frannie was her grandmother Celia. 

“He’s also never even met her.Give him a chance is all I’m saying.”Mickey rolled onto his back. “If he’s a deadbeat then fuck him.We go to the mattresses for this kid, but let’s leave the guns and take the cannoli for now, okay?”

“ _Godfather_ references?Really?”Ian asked, annoyed Mickey was trying to equate to very different situations.

Silence descended between them after that. 

He knew Mickey just wanted out of the situation which Ian could understand.He had not signed up for this.Ian hadn’t either, but what else could he do?In a perfect world, Debbie would win back primary custody and Derek would have visitation, like a more formal version of the arrangement Mickey had with Svetlana.“I just want Frannie to be okay.” 

“If it all goes to hell with both of them you can just adopt her.”

“Yeah, if it comes down to it, which it most likely won’t.”Ian told him.Odds were Debbie would get Frannie back.If Frank and Monica could get them back there was no way Debbie couldn’t.Derek’s level of involvement was the wildcard.

“You sort of wish it would, huh?”Mickey probed.

“No.I really hope Frannie gets to go back to Debbie.This is really hard on her.”Ian replied. He sincerely hoped Debbie, Derek and the courts could come to an agreement that would keep him from having to step in like that, but he would if he had to.He wanted to have a family with Mickey someday, but that day was somewhere in their thirties.

“Huh.”Mickey grunted.

“How was work?”Ian asked, wanting to change the subject and end the day on a high note.

“Awesome.”Mickey groaned, stretching his arms up over his head.“Jesus, it feels good to be fucking doing something again.”

“Does this mean we’re going back to eating take out all the time?”Ian teased, hoping he was wrong.

Mickey rolled back onto his side and looked at him.“No, it means I’m finally not spending eight hours of every day gaming.”

There was an invitation in his eyes so Ian scooted in a little closer, resting his head on Mickey’s pillow.“Gonna miss your online friends?”

“Miss a bunch of basement dwelling incels?Nah, man.”Mickey said, bringing his arm down and around Ian.

“Is it an interesting case?”Ian asked, shifting so his head was on Mickey’s shoulder. He draped an arm over Mickey’s upper body and put his hand on Mickey’s neck.They hadn’t talked much about Mickey’s job before.

“Very, but I can’t talk about it.”

Which would explain why they hadn’t talked about it much, Ian thought.Out loud he said, “So secretive.”

“I mean, it’s interesting to an accountant.Probably boring as fuck to anyone else.”

Ian thought the same thing about his job.It seemed all glitzy and glamorous but it was mostly just a very scary juggling act, trying to keep multiple projects moving forward at once while making the entire thing look planned out and smooth to the gaming public.“You do this for court cases, right?”

“Yeah, mostly for the FBI and SDNY.”

“Mickey ‘Fuck U-Up’ Milkovich, for the prosecution.”Ian wondered about how Mickey justified the huge reversal.Mickey had grown up in a criminal household where the idea of a legit job was anathema and the cops were the enemy.It was the only way of life he had known until this year.Now he was working on the side of law enforcement.

“Most of what I deal with is white collar crimes, you know, rich guys getting richer scamming poor people.I’ll gladly take those fuckers down.”Mickey told him. 

“Crusader for the people.”Ian teased, but inside he was feeling proud of Mickey. 

Ian was wealthy as fuck now, but he could be a lot richer if he had gone the way of most guys who made it big.The core group had talked about it a lot when Claymore started to take off.Who did they want to be as a company?How rich did they personally need to be to feel like they made it? 

Collectively, the group had chosen to focus on being as ethical as possible. They decided against going public and remained a private enterprise because they didn’t want to be beholden to their stock price. They didn’t try to keep labor costs down by fucking over their employees.They did a lot of reinvestment in the business to make sure everyone had the best equipment needed to make Claymore successful.They shared profits with employees so everyone reaped the bounty. They paid their taxes rather than looking for every possible loophole to avoid them. 

This last one made Sven insane, but it was something the rest of the group felt was important.All of them at some time or another had been dependent on public assistance in some way.Paying into the system now felt like the right thing to do.

They didn’t gouge their customers either.They tried to make games people would want to play and made sure it was possible to play them for free.Yes, there were ads and in-game purchases available to avoid ads and make it easier or faster to win, but the games could be beaten without them. 

Ian’s favorite players were the purists who refused to pay to play.They had the most to teach him as a game developer.

He felt like Claymore was proof that corporations didn’t have to be hateful, self serving money machines for the guys at the top.He had more money than he could spend already and at some point more was just more.He didn’t need to be a billionaire.Yes, money was power, but he had already learned those guys wanted power so they could make more money.It was a very sick circle of accumulation Ian wanted no part of.

“Fuck you, money bags.”Mickey snarked, but he kissed Ian’s hairline proving he didn’t really mean it.

Ian snuggled in a little closer, basking in the skin to skin contact. “Gladly.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I’m a little Polly Anna about Claymore’s business practices, but there are companies that make these sorts of choices. In my life I’ve been lucky enough to work for one, it just wasn't this big. Please suspend disbelief for me.
> 
> Also, since Shameless has been shameless about adhering to a real timeline, I am giving myself license to do the same. it was getting too hard to keep track of and make work without a massive overhaul, so more suspension of disbelief will be required going forward.
> 
> Thanks for sticking with me!


	57. Strike Two

“Hi, Mickey.”Debbie said as soon as Mickey answered the phone.

Mickey’s stomach clenched.He had a suspicion he knew what was happening here. “Hey, Debs.We gonna see you tomorrow?”

“That’s what I was calling about.I just got off work.Even if i catch the next bus, I won’t make it in time.”Debbie informed him just has he had feared she would.

“I can get you on a plane.”Mickey offered, leaning back in his chair and settling in for what he knew would be a long negotiation.He was going to try for a less frontal approach this time, maybe be a little more diplomatic.

“No.”She refused.“Since I can’t make it, I booked an extra shift tomorrow, but I arranged my lunch break so I can still FaceTime with Frannie.”

“Does Connie know?”Mickey asked, because whether or not she got to FaceTime wasn't up to him.It pissed him off she was skipping out on another visit.It was now a month since Frannie had seen her.

“Yes, dad.”He could hear the eye roll in her voice and his anger went up a notch.“I called her before I called you.I left her a message.”

“You’re working a lot of overtime aren’t you?”Mickey asked.He knew from talking with Ian that Debbie was almost never home anymore and Fiona thought she was working extra shifts.He also knew Liam did not share this opinion.

He was more inclined to believe the kid since Fiona wasn’t always known for paying attention when she had things going on in her own life.She was in the middle of buying her second apartment building so Mickey was pretty sure Fiona would believe any story Debbie told her as long as it sounded like good news.

“Yeah.Saving up for the big move.”

Mickey didn’t believe her. He started to wonder if she was partying a lot.There was something in her voice he had heard countless times from the people he dealt drugs to back in the day.He had heard it in his older brothers and his mother.He really hoped he was wrong.

“How about you borrow the money from me?I promise to make you pay it back at loan shark rates.”He joked, well aware she didn’t want this to be easy. If he had to fleece her blind to get her to come up to New York, he was willing to do that.

“I really want to do this myself.” She told him, but she was chuckling a little when she said it.

Mickey sighed, disappointed.“I get you, but you’re zero for two on the visitation.”

“I called her this time.”Debbie defended herself.“If my parents could get us back, its not like I’ve ruined my chances already.”

“Wow, so Monica and Frank are the high bar you’re setting for yourself? You want to be slightly less shitty than they were?”Mickey asked, incredulous Debbie would even say such a thing.

“Fuck you, Mickey.”

Mickey decided to remind her there was more to regaining custody than just making some visitation appointments.She was competing with the Delgados too.“Are you going to be here for the hearing on the 12th?You baby daddy’s family is requesting paternity testing.”

“No way!He’s not even on the birth certificate!”She exclaimed.

Mickey wondered if Debbie was also ignoring her lawyer’s calls because surely she would have told Debbie about this.“Maybe not, but your issues with his family are part of the record.DNA does the rest and poof there goes full custody unless you are mother of the fucking year.”

“Fuck!”She shouted in his ear.

Mickey held the phone away from him and changed to speaker.He was not letting that happen again.He tried again to negotiate with her. “Let me get you a plane ticket, please.”

“But I could lose my job if I no show at work.”Debbie whined as Ian poked his head into the office and mouthed ‘Debbie?’

Mickey nodded and then said, “Fine.Whatever.It’s your life, your kid.”

“Mickey...”

“No.You do you.You want a plane ticket or a loan you call me, otherwise, I’d rather not talk to you.”Mickey hung up as Ian slumped into one of the office’s oxblood leather chairs.

“She’s not coming, is she?” Ian asked the moment Mickey hung up.

“No.She wants to FaceTime again.”Mickey said.“Doesn’t sound like she’s gonna make it up for court either.”

“Goddamn it.”Ian rolled his eyes.

***

“I knew your home would be beautiful, but this is truly incredible.”Connie, their case worker, said when Ian opened the front door for her.It was 9:30 so they had some time before Debbie was supposed to call.Ian was planning to put her on the big screen in the living room so she could see all of them and they could see her.

“Thanks, I tried to do it justice.”Ian replied gesturing for her to enter.His house made an awesome first impression.

She turned in a slow circle, taking in the blue couches, the huge bar, the dining table that could sit as many as twenty people with all the leaves in and the huge floor to ceiling sliding windows opening on to the courtyard.She looked dazzled when she said, “I read the book about the builders.It’s a beautiful story.”

“Yeah, I bought it for the story and restored it as much as possible to the period.”Ian told her.It wasn’t prefect in Ford’s opinion, but fuck him.It was still goddamn gorgeous.

“Well, it’s magnificent.”Connie said, completing her turn and ending looking at the stairs.“Can I see Frannie’s room?”

“Sure, no problem.”Ian agreed, leading the way to the elevator.Once they were inside he hit the button for the fourth floor and told the case worker, “She’s in the kitchen with Mickey working on breakfast.You can join us if you want.”

“Thanks for the offer, but I can’t.”Connie demurred as the elevator dinged and opened onto the very pretty landing. 

“Against protocol?”He asked as he led her down the hall to the room next to Mickey’s old room and pushed open the door.

“Yes.”She agreed as she looked around the room.It was clean, tidy and already starting to fill up with books and toys.Both he and Mickey were buying things here and there as they realized they didn’t have them.She opened the closet and looked at the neatly hung uniforms and play clothes.She closed the door and made a few notes on her clipboard.“This is very nice.Where is your room?”

“Oh, we’re one level down.Michelle didn’t like it either until I showed her Mildred.”Ian said noting the frown that immediately appeared on Connie’s face when he mentioned the distance.“Mildred, show me where Frannie is.”

The TV on the wall instantly sprang to life and showed him an image of the kitchen where Mickey was cutting something and Frannie was sitting at the counter drawing. “That’s the kitchen.”

She smiled at him, because duh that was the kitchen, and said, “Thanks.”

“We have a set up so once we put Frannie to bed, Mildred acts as a baby monitor.She alerts us if she starts crying or gets out of bed.”Ian said as they made their way to the stairs and started down to the kitchen.

“Any issues with her sleeping?”

“Not really.”Ian was sort of fibbing since Mickey told him about a couple times Frannie had woken him up in the middle of the night, but he hadn’t made it seem like a big deal so Ian assumed it wasn’t.

“Does the dog sleep with her?”

“They’re pretty inseparable at this point, but no.Scraggles stays in our room at night, just to be safe.”That was Mickey’s idea until they knew the dog a little better.He had seen some video about kids getting mauled by dogs and wanted to make sure that didn’t happen to Frannie.Ian thought it was overkill because Scraggles was very sweet and was glued to her all day long, but whatever made him happy.

Connie apparently agreed with Mickey.“Good.Any issues at school?”

“No.Thanks for expediting for us so we could get her enrolled so fast.She’s doing really well, making friends.We hired a tutor for her just recently.”Ian told her as they arrived on the second floor.

“Hey, Connie, s’up?” Mickey greeted her as he slammed a rolling pin into a pile of what Ian assumed was biscuit dough.Frannie glanced at her and then turned her attention back to her workbook with a scowl on her face.She apparently remembered Connie from the park and didn’t like her.

“Hello, Mickey.”Connie returned the greeting and then resumed their discussion about school. “The initial report from the preschool says she’s behind.”

“Yeah, but the way I’m looking at it, I want to get her caught up as much as possible so if she’s still with us when she starts kindergarten she’ll be on par with the other kids.If she ends up back in public school in Chicago she’ll have a head start.” Ian said, because Mickey was the one who talked him into the tutor.

“That’s my opinion as well.” Connie said. “It’s nearly time for the mother to call.”

“I was thinking we could do it on the TV in there.”Ian pointed to the living room.Then, more for Debbie’s sake than his, he said, “Thanks for being cool about this.”

Connie shrugged.“Denial is not uncommon this early in the process.”

“Oh.So this is normal?”Mickey asked.

“It’s not completely unexpected, but if it continues it’s not good.The court expects her to comply with their orders.Surely, her attorney has told her that.”Connie said.Ian knew the attorney had told Debbie that, so had he, Fiona, Mickey, Mandy, Svetlana, Lip and even Liam.

“I’m trying to stay out of it as much as possible since Frannie has to be the priority now.I’ll be here for my niece for as long as she needs me.”Ian had decided to just let Debbie avoid him. If she wanted to blame him then so be it.He wasn’t doing this for her.He was doing it for Frannie.

“You should know the alleged father’s family has been made aware of the situation and would like to see Frannie.” 

Mickey snorted. They already knew about this.

Ian asked, “Do we get a choice?”

“Once paternity is established, if he wants to claim his rights, he’s entitled to do so.”Connie said, sitting in Mickey’s chair which she correctly assumed was outside the TV camera’s range.

“He can just take her?”Mickey asked.

“I’m not a lawyer, but it’s not automatic, no.If he wants custody he will have to petition for it.He has not been in this child’s life at all and he’s currently deployed.If the mother does the work required by the courts and he wants to claim his rights also, then a custody agreement will be worked out.As I see it, that’s the best case scenario.”Connie told them. 

That was good info to have, but he hadn’t really been asking about who ultimately got custody, he was more worried about now.He didn’t want Frannie pulled from them and handed over to strangers. 

Connie continued, “If you’re worried about losing Frannie to another family member right now, don’t.You’ve been granted a direct placement which means you have custody of Frannie until the courts decide on a permanent solution for her.The only change for you right now will be if paternity is proven. The court will grant the paternal family visitation with the child as well.”

“Great.”Mickey muttered as he slammed a tray of biscuits into the oven with more force than necessary.

“Visitation is a balancing act.We make sure we work around everyone’s schedules as much as possible.In your case, it will probably be a lot of FaceTime or Skype, since you’re in New York and the rest of the family is in Chicago and Afghanistan.”Connie reassured them.

Ian took up a place on the couch in front of the TV.

“Since this could drag into the new school year, have you chosen a kindergarten yet?” Connie asked, checking her watch.Debbie was ten minutes late now.

“Applications are in.I’m hoping to send her to the same school Mickey’s son goes to, but we’ll see how it goes.We’re trying to play the legacy card with them.”It was the only way he stood a chance in hell of getting Frannie into such a prestigious school.The tuition was insane, the competition was fierce and Ian had no way to be certain they would get in.He had a meeting set up with the headmistress in two weeks to talk about it.Svetlana assured him meetings with her weren’t common so he hoped that was a good sign.

“Good luck with that.Getting into those sorts of schools practically takes an act of congress.”Connie joked as Ian’s phone started to ring.It was Debbie thank God.

“Don’t I know it.”Ian said as he swiped to accept the FaceTime invitation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short bridge to the next step.
> 
> Personal life is rough right now. My Oppa is dying. He’s on hospice. I live close, but not close enough to be there all the time. It’s hard not being there.
> 
> Honestly, everything feels dark right now. 
> 
> My state opened early and we are now reaping the rewards of choosing political expediency over science. COVID cases are spiking around me and while my hospital is better equipped than most, it’s still very scary. I’ve had two co-workers test positive in the last week and a bunch go into 14 day quarantine.
> 
> Also, as an FYI a little more than 50% of our COVID admissions are under age 45. Some are in their 20’s in the ICU, fighting for their lives. My sister works in a pediatric hospital and cases among children are also spiking. 
> 
> Age will not save you. 
> 
> Being healthy will not save you. 
> 
> COVID doesn’t care. 
> 
> Recovering from COVID can leave you with lifelong health problems - you should see the lungs survivors are left with. Recovering from it doesn’t guarantee you wont get it again since the science is showing antibodies are short lived. 
> 
> This. Virus. Is. No. Joke.
> 
> Not sure if any of you need to hear this, I hope none of you do, but public masking requirements are not tyranny. Masks are no more a slippery slope into socialism or fascism (or whatever ism you’re afraid of) than seatbelts or drunk driving laws. They are a matter of public safety and public health. 
> 
> Masks are uncomfortable. They fog up your glasses sometimes. Your face might break out. We know. We wear them every day, all day at work. They do not, however, inhibit your breathing - if that were true why have surgeons worn them for the last 100 years to, wait for it, prevent the spread of infection? No reputable healthcare provider is EVER going to advocate against wearing a mask in public. If they are, they are a hack underserving of their license to practice medicine. Yeah, I said it. I stand by it. This IS a hill I’m willing to die on.
> 
> If you’re still refusing to wear a mask or social distance because “ma’ rights” fuck all the way off and then fuck off again.
> 
> That is all. Rant over. Stay safe out there. 
> 
> ❤️❤️❤️


	58. Team Mickey

“Damn, this is so good.”Austin sighed around a mouthful of pizza. “If you ever decide you hate being an accountant, you could open a restaurant.”

“Thanks.” Mickey smiled, ducking his head at the praise.He didn’t really know these people so he wasn’t sure how to take them being nice to him.He glanced at his watch.

“You expecting someone?”The tall, graceful, Indian woman sitting at his kitchen island asked him.

“Yeah, Ian and the kiddo should be coming home any second now.”Mickey told her.They had only met this morning so she knew the bare minimum about him at this point, but he had told her it was Ian’s house he was living in.

“So, is Ian as cool as I imagine him to be?”Asked Kennedy, the third person on the team who had come over to work through some case details with him.

“He’s alright.”Mickey said, because the guy seemed really excited about meeting Ian for some reason.It was weird watching him fan boy over someone Mickey had known since he was nine, but whatever.

“I thought you said your son lives with his mother.”The woman, Jiaan, said, sipping at the glass of Chianti Mickey had served to the group while he was making pizza.

“He does.Frannie is Ian’s niece.We’ve got temporary custody of her while her mother works her shit out.”Mickey told her as he stretched out the next piece of dough.

“Oh, I thought you said Frankie.You have a lot going on in your life.”Jiaan said, eying him.

“Hell, my life has been way more chaotic, trust me.”Mickey said it like it was a joke. “This shit is a walk in the fucking park by comparison.”

Then the front door slammed and the sound of little feet running up wooden stairs filling the room.

“Mickey!”Frannie shouted as she hit the landing only to stop dead in her tracks and stare at the unknown people in the room.

Ian trotted up after her and stopped just behind the little girl. He put a hand on her shoulder and cocked his head at Mickey, green eyes questioning. “Hey, Mick.I didn’t know we were having people over.”

Okay, so he probably should have texted Ian to warn him.It had just sort of happened that he ended up cooking.“Ian, Frannie, this is Jiaan, Austin and Kennedy.Jiaan is an Assistant US Attorney at SDNY, Austin is running the case for WPS and Kennedy is a grunt like me.We ran a little late so I made them dinner.”

“Oh, cool.”Ian smiled, turning on the charm.He stepped around Frannie and went to Jiaan first, shaking her hand.“I’m Ian and that is my niece Frannie.”

“My son loves _Ocean Apocalypse_.Our tutor set up an app that logs his homework progress and extra studies and for each hour worked he gets 15 minutes of screen time to play his favorite game.So, thank you for making such a great motivator.”Jiaan gushed.It was the least composed Mickey had seen her so far.It made him like her a little more.

Ian moved on to shake Austin’s hand while still talking to Jiaan.“Glad I could help. We’ve got a few more games in the pipeline for kids under 12.If all goes as planned the next one will be coming out in June and there’s an update to _OA_ coming out in March.That’s hush hush still, so please keep it to yourselves.”

He moved on to Kennedy who just about fell out of his chair when Ian shook his hand and then continued with idle chit chat meant to make other people comfortable with him.It was masterful watching Ian charm people who tended to be very hard to charm.It made Mickey jealous how easily Ian worked his magic.

“Mickey, I’m hungry.”Frannie said, pulling at Mickey’s sleeve.

“I’m making pizza.You want some?”Mickey teased.He already had her favorite ingredients out and ready to go.

“Can it have the puppy-roni on it?”She asked, huge blue eyes looking up at him in a way Mickey knew was custom designed to make him melt. 

It worked. “It sure can.”

“Yummy!”She said, dancing in a circle and smiling at the adults who were all smiling at her.

Mickey put a hand on her head and ruffled her hair.“Go upstairs with Ian and get your bath, okay?I’ll have your pizza ready when you get back.”

“Okay!”She said, and shot off for the stairs.

Ian walked into the kitchen and planted a kiss on Mickey’s cheek.“See you in a few.”

“He’s even better looking in person, damn.”Kennedy sighed.“You are one lucky guy.”

“He’s not so bad.” Mickey chuckled.

“I don’t know, Mickey.I don’t think I’d ever make it out of the bedroom with a hottie like that in the house.”Kennedy teased.

“Never you mind.”Jiaan chided the younger man.“Can we get back on topic for a minute here?”

***

“Your friends were pretty cool.”Ian said as he finished loading the dishwasher.

“They’re not my friends.Just people from work.”Mickey told him.“I barely know them.”

“I didn’t realize you were in the major leagues, I mean, US Attorney’s Office?” Ian didn’t know much about the law and he knew as little as possible about accounting, but it sounded like what Mickey was doing was pretty big time.

Mickey put down his beer and stared at Ian.“You have no idea what the SDNY is, do you?”

“Nope.”Ian admitted.Mickey had also mentioned he did work for the FBI.Ian had assumed that meant Wolfe, Pratt and Stevens did work for the FBI, not that Mickey was personally involved. 

“It’s the Southern District of New York.It’s federal court.”Mickey explained, watching him to see if he understood.

“That’s bigger than the FBI.”Ian surmised.It amazed him Mickey was working with people this high level.

“The FBI does the investigating.SDNY prosecutes.”

Mickey, his quick witted, fast talking thug from the Southside was working in the federal courts.It was mind boggling.“So what do you do for them?”

“WPS is a government contractor.We review financials, look for inconsistencies and try to figure out the money trail.It takes a team of people.Jiaan will eventually prosecute the case in court.Austin’s running the case for WPS, so we sort of follow his lead.Me and Kennedy work with book keepers, the IRS, cyber crime specialists, FBI 1and state and federal prosecutors to figure out the money trail.”Mickey explained, still watching Ian closely like he was waiting for Ian to make fun of him.

Ian tried to wrap his mind around the job Mickey did.Everyone he had just mentioned were people the old Mickey would have tried to avoid like his life depended on it.

Rolling his eyes, Mickey continued. “Most accountants are goody two shoes math nerds.Fuckers like following rules.Kennedy and Auston are a little looser than the norm, but still pretty typical accountants.I’m way outta left field.I think like the criminals we’re hunting because I was that guy - low level, but still that guy.Makes me more creative than most, I guess.”

“Never in a million years would I have imagined you being an accountant, much less working with the feds.”Ian replied honestly.

“The reason I got an accounting degree was because I figured if I ever got out it was the only one with any street value. Every class, all I was looking for were ways to game the system.”Mickey told him.

It was rare for Mickey to offer any insight into his time in prison.“That was smart.”

“Minored in finance which is what I really wanted to do, but with a record, it was a waste of time. I’d never get licensed.”Mickey told him.Ian knew Mickey had some money in the stock market and that he liked trading.He had not known that was something Mickey had actually wanted to do with his life. 

He wondered if Mickey would like to manage the part of his stock portfolio he was supposed to be managing himself.He had set up the account when he thought the stock market would be fun, but then had lost interest in it. It had been months since he had even looked at it.

“Been thinking about maybe trying to get into law school lately though.”

Ian looked up at Mickey who was watching him with a guarded expression. 

Mickey had already proved he could do anything he set his mind to, so why not?“You could go with Carl.”

Mickey snorted out a chuckle.“Like he’s gonna get into law school.”

“Weirder things have happened.”Ian reminded him, thinking about how weird it was that Mickey was a forensic accountant working with the feds.If that could happen, anything could.

“Don’t I know it.”Mickey shrugged.Then he pushed up from the stool he was sitting on and stretched.

“So working from home is going pretty good.” Ian said smiling.He dried his hands and then went over to Mickey to hug him.

“Yeah, so far so good.I feel a little bad about making them come to me, but they don't seem to mind.”Mickey agreed, letting Ian put his arms around him for no more than a second before he stepped back breaking the contact.

He started heading toward the elevator, back straight and shoulders hunched, saying, “Gonzo says it’ll be at least another eight weeks before he lets me go back full time.Mo wants me to start going to some group he leads on Thursdays at six, so you’re gonna have to pick up Frannie and feed her dinner starting next week.”

“Oh.Yeah. Okay. Sure.”Ian agreed.They had gone from having a conversation to shut down in near record time and Ian didn’t understand it.Mickey’s posture told him not to ask, so he just followed the shorter man into the elevator saying, “No problem.”

***

“How are you Ian?”

Ian was sitting on the couch in Dr. Brynner’s office.He had missed their last session.He had wanted to miss this one as well, but decided to suck it up.He had to keep to his routine.

“I’m okay.” It was a lie. 

She had known him long enough to tell.“You don’t sound okay.”

“I’m alright.”He said again, because he wanted to be. 

“How is Mickey?”Of course she jumped right to the heart of what was troubling him.

“Super busy all of a sudden.Like I knew he had a life before he came to live with me, but I didn’t realize he was so busy.He’s working on a case now and when he’s not doing that he has Dr. Mo on Tuesdays, group on Thursdays, PT three days a week and, with Frannie in the house, I feel like I hardly see him anymore.”It all gushed out in a rush.

“You are equally busy, though, aren’t you?”Dr. Brynner asked.

“I guess, but...” Ian trailed off.It was different when he was the one who was super busy.He still made time for Mickey.

“You got used to having him around waiting for you.”

Ian thought about that.Mickey had been staying with him since mid October.During that time he had been recovering from three major surgeries and had been pretty much housebound and bored.Ian was the only person he saw most days. 

It made him realize how artificial their growing closeness was. Mickey hadn’t really had a choice.It made him feel worse.“Yeah, I guess.”

“Are you making time for each other?”She asked.

“Like an official date night or something?No.We still have breakfast every morning and dinner together most nights and we’re sharing a bed, but it’s just different.” Ian said, wondering at how little he had bothered to learn about Mickey’s life.Now that Mickey was started to get back to his former normal, where did Ian fit in?

“Any change on the intimacy front?”

“I know he’s working through some shit and group seems to be pure torture for him, but he’s just not that interested right now.”It was an understatement.It had started after Mickey’s freak out. He still allowed some hugging and small kisses, but that was all he was willing to do.There really wasn’t anything sexual about it.Ian didn’t like it, but he also didn’t push him. 

Mickey had ducked away when Ian went to kiss him goodbye this morning.

“I see.” Dr. Brynner said, pushing her glasses up her nose and eyeing him.“How does that make you feel?”

“I get it.He’s doing the best he can.”Ian shrugged.He could only imagine what Mickey was going through.If the man didn’t want to touch or be touched it wasn't rocket science to figure out why.He just had to be patient.

“But...” Dr. Brynner said, letting the word drag out and then hang between them.

“But I miss him.”Ian admitted.Sometimes it felt the second Mickey knew he could get out of Ian’s house he would be gone and Ian might never see him again.Other times he knew it was just the things Mickey was dealing with in therapy.It was hard because he could live with it if he knew on the other side of it they would be together, but there was no certainty that would happen. 

Mickey had told him more times than he could count they weren’t a couple and he wouldn’t commit to becoming one later either.There was still a very real possibility this was the beginning of the end for them. 

“Have you told him how you feel?”She asked.

“Yes and no.I don't want to put any more pressure on him than he’s already under.”

“Sometimes when someone is going through a difficult time, they try to protect the people they love by avoiding them.They tell themselves if I can just get through this, then things will be go back to normal.”

“Yeah, that sounds like something he would do.”Ian agreed, remembering how Mickey had preferred going to juvie than deal with being gay.When he came back, he was in a better place about it.

“Maybe he just needs a little push.”She suggested.

“Maybe.”Ian didn’t feel like that would be a good idea.He didn’t know exactly what Mickey was going through right now, but he knew between the sessions with Dr. Mohammed and group, which he assumed was for rape survivors, Mickey had some very serious shit going on.

“Remember when you were giving him too much space and he had to ask you to start pushing him again?”She reminded him.

“Yeah.”He had pulled back because he assumed Mickey didn’t want to be touched.He had been wrong that time, but this time felt different.

“This time you ask for what you need.” 

“Won’t that just upset him more?”

“I don’t think so.I think it will remind him that though he won’t label it, he’s in a relationship than needs care and watering from time to time.”

That made sense if Mickey was walling himself off to protect Ian, but would be counter productive if Mickey was just trying to protect himself.“I’ll think about it.”

Dr. Brynner watched him for a moment and then changed the subject.“Okay, so how is work?”

Work was much easier to talk about.

***

Frannie was at school.Things had been getting a little easier with her, but her next visit with Debbie was scheduled for the following morning, so Ian was not expecting that to last.Once again, Debbie opted for FaceTime. 

It had been better during their most recent visit. Debbie had held it together, reassured Frannie they would talk again in two more weeks and told her to be good for ‘the boys’.

Frannie had cried a little and moped for the rest of the weekend, but had gone to school Monday without complaint.She was back to normal by the time she got home.

The only real problem in Ian’s world was Mickey.

They were barely talking and Ian had noticed that was basically only when Frannie was in the room.When they went to bed, which was never at the same time, Mickey would either already be there with the light off pretending to be sleeping or he would tell Ian he was tired and could they talk in the morning.

The team Mickey was working with was spending a lot of time at the house and that was another irritation.Working from home he was too aware of their sometimes loud conversations or when they laughed at something or how Mickey seemed more like his usual self around them.The moment they left he walled off again.

Because being avoided hurt, Ian had started spending more time at the office and less time working from home. 

It fucking sucked and he was tired of it.

Ian changed into some gym clothes and went to work out, surprised to find Mickey already there.He stopped in the doorway.“Hey, Mickey.”

Mickey looked up at him.“S’up?”

“I didn’t think you could do that yet.”Ian said, watching as Mickey got up from the leg bench with just a single crutch.

“PT says my hip is strong enough now, so yeah. Might lose the crutches all together in a week or two.”

“That’s great, Mick.”Ian said, resisting the urge to hug the smaller man. “No work today?”

Mickey shook his head.“I’m starting after I shower.I have a meeting at two, then I thought I’d do some baking since we’re out of bread.I’m only supposed to be working part time, but I logged 60 hours last week.Made some really good progress so now I’m basically just waiting for the cyber crimes guys to catch up and get us more info.”

“Oh.That’s good.”Mickey had been working way too much in Ian’s opinion so he was glad to hear Mickey was aware of it.It was also an opportunity for them to spend some much needed time together.“I’ll see if I can clear my afternoon, too.Maybe we can hang for a while before the kid comes home.”

Mickey’s expression tightened.“Sure, but I was going to make bread.”

Ian sighed and decided to go for it.“I miss you.”

“You see me every day.”Mickey replied looking at him like he had grown a second head.

Ian was in the doorway, basically blocking Mickey in the room.Since Mickey was a captive audience, he was just going to throw it all out there and let the chips fall where they may. “I know, but we don't talk, we don’t kiss, I don’t dance for you or anything anymore and, fuck man, I just miss you.”

“Oh.”Mickey said, blue eyes going wide, before his gaze fell to the floor.“So you’re already tired of jerking it in the shower.”

“No, I just want us to be like we were before Frannie came to live with us.”Ian said, reminding him these were things they used to share.Ian didn’t want more than that, he just wanted those small little physical connections that reminded them what they were working toward.

Mickey looked back up at him and then back at the floor.He rubbed his face.“I...shit, I’ll try, but I can’t promise...I mean, I’m...” He trailed off and heaved a deep breath.“I wasn't trying to avoid you.”

“I’m not trying to pressure you or anything, so if you can’t, I understand.”Ian was quick to reassure.He could see bringing it up had upset Mickey.“I’m cool with some hand holding and the occasional snuggle, I just thought we should talk about it.”

“Yeah.We need to.Just, can it wait until later?”Mickey asked, not looking at him.“I need to think a little.”

“Of course.Seriously, no pressure.I just wanted to put that out there.”Ian said, entering the gym so Mickey could leave, which he did.

***

Ian deliberately stayed in his office until four thirty.He wanted to give Mickey time to finish his work, start his bread and think his way through what he wanted to say. 

When he finally went looking for him, Mickey was in the kitchen and as promised he was leaning against the countertop kneading bread dough.Ian walked into the room and asked, “You need some help with that?”

Mickey glanced up.“Sure, muscles, I’d love it if you did some kneading for me.”

Ian noted the nickname and the tension in Mickey’s shoulders, but he walked over next to him and took over the tedious task of activating glutens through physical manipulation.“How did your meeting go?”

“Not bad.They indicted today.This one will be going to court.”Mickey told him, cleaning up.

“Have you had to go to court before?”Ian asked.Both of them had been in court for custody cases and as defendants, but Ian didn’t think either of them had ever acted as a witness, much less an expert witness for the prosecution.

“Not yet, but I might for this one.”

“Are you ready for that?”Ian asked, because just the thought made him nervous.

“Nah, but they’ll do a lot of work with me to get me ready for it.”Mickey told him, drying his hands on a kitchen towel.

“It’ll be pretty weird to be the one presenting evidence, huh?”Ian asked, feeling like he was babbling, but the conversation wasn’t flowing.It felt staccato and forced.

“Yeah, real weird.But I can do it.”Mickey said, staring at Ian’s hands in the dough.

It was enough to make Ian worry he was doing it wrong.“Am I doing this right?”

“Yeah.”Mickey said, moving over next to him.After a tense minute, he put his hands on top of Ian’s and guided them, changing the motion a little.“Maybe, just a little more like this?”

It was the first time Mickey had voluntarily touched him in days.With Mickey’s hands still on his, Ian resumed control.“Like this?”

“Yeah, just like that.”Mickey confirmed, withdrawing his hands but staying by Ian’s side. “Didn’t mean to avoid you, man.Didn’t realize I was doing it.”

“It’s okay.”Ian told the smaller man, leaning into him a little and glad when Mickey didn’t pull away.“I love you.”

“I missed you, too.”Mickey said with a lopsided grin.“Wanna go upstairs?”

Ian stopped kneading to look at Mickey.He suspected there was Ativan involved, but Dr. Brynner had told him that was likely to be the case for a while and that as long as he didn’t push past already established boundaries, it was okay.“Only if you do.”

“I don’t know how far we’ll get, but yeah, I do.”Mickey replied with a shrug.

“What about this?”Ian said, referring to the bread dough he was still kneading.

Mickey pulled off a small piece and did what he called the window pane test.“It’s good.Just needs to proof.We have time.”

Ian was glad to hear it and put the bread dough ball in the bowl Mickey offered him.Once it was covered with cling film, Mickey led the way to the elevator, Ian following behind wondering at how weird it was to see Mickey with only one crutch rather than two.Before he knew it Mickey would be walking without an aid and the need to stay with him would be gone.

Then it would just be if Mickey wanted to, which he had already repeatedly said he did not. 

The elevator dinged and before Ian knew it they were standing awkwardly in the bedroom they shared.Something in Mickey’s body language told Ian not to touch him.Instead he offered, “Do you want me to dance for you?”

“Yeah.”Mickey agreed sounding relieved.As he walked over to the couch he asked, “Strip for me?”

“I can do that.”Ian agreed.“Mildred, play Spank Bank Volume 2, please.”

“Going for seductive this time?”Mickey asked, watching as Ian started to sway to the music.

“Maybe.”Ian said, running a hand across his chest and down towards his belt.He had eyes only for Mickey, intently watching the older man’s body language trying to read the signs.So far all signals were go for shirt removal, so Ian very slowly undid the buttons.

“Jesus.You are fucking beautiful, you know that?”Mickey told him, pulling the blanket that lived on the back of the couch into his lap.

“You think so?”Ian asked, pealing the shirt off of his shoulders and throwing it on the floor.He turned a slow circle so Mickey could take in all the angles and then started working on his belt.

“Yeah.”Mickey said, and Ian could hear the jingle of Mickey undoing his own belt and then the sound of a zipper followed by a relieved groan.

The blanket started moving in a slow, lazy rhythm.Mickey was testing the waters, Ian thought, and so far they seemed to feel fine.

Ian pulled his belt out of the loops in an overly dramatic gesture that made Mickey chuckle before he tossed it in the same direction as his shirt.Then he slowly undid the button fly on his jeans.Mickey licked his lips.

Ian danced a slow grinding circle, sensual, but not overtly sexual as he pushed his jeans down past his ass and then bent over, ass to Mickey, to pull them all the way off.He remembered when he couldn’t even touch his toes, but a couple years of twice weekly Yoga had given him some flexibility that came in useful in situations like this.

He stood back up, threw the jeans on the discarded clothes pile and turned around to face Mickey. 

“Fuck.”Mickey said, the rhythm under the blanket increasing.Ian smiled.

“Those can come off, too.” Mickey said pointing at Ian’s dark gray briefs.

Ian arched an eyebrow, wondering if that was a good idea, but Mickey was the picture of relaxed, with pupils blown so wide Ian almost couldn’t tell his eyes were blue.“Okay.”

He pulled down one side of his underwear and smirked when Mickey licked his lips again.Then he pulled down the other side and did the same low bend to pull them all the way off.When he stood up, Mickey’s eyes were on his crotch.

Ian looked down at himself and then back over at Mickey.He was rock hard and wanted to touch himself, but decided to just keep dancing for now.He wanted Mickey to cum first.

“I saw a lot of dicks in prison, but fuck Ian, that thing is something else.”Mickey muttered.

Ian chuckled.“I’m not sure I wanted to know that.”

Mickey shrugged.“Open showers.”

“Gross.”Ian made a face and let his hand brush over his cock, watching how Mickey’s eyes followed the movement.

“Yeah.That is a thing of beauty though.” 

Ian didn’t acknowledge the compliment, instead dancing a little closer to Mickey wishing he could kiss the smaller man. 

“Anyone ever tell you you have huge balls?”Mickey asked.

“Um, no.” Ian said, wondering what the hell was going on in Mickey’s head.“I mostly hear about my huge cock.”

“Play with them.”Mickey ordered. 

“Bossy.”Ian teased, looking at Mickey hard for a moment before deciding to do as asked. Back in the day, blow jobs from Mickey had always involved a little testicular worship, so as he touched himself, Ian tried to duplicate how that had felt.

“Come here.”Mickey said and it sounded like a command, not a request.

Ian eyed him, thinking he could see some tension building.“What’s our safe word?”

“Octopus. Come here, I said.”Mickey ordered. 

Ian danced closer, no longer able to keep his hand off his dick.The pressure was building and he needed a little relief to be able to keep going.

He waited for a moment before he sat down next to Mickey, close but not touching. 

Mickey leaned over close and breathed deep.“You smell so good.”

Ian thought the same thing of Mickey.The scent of sex was in the air and it was heady and erotic and he wanted nothing more than to pull Mickey into his lap and make love to him.He wanted to be inside him so, so bad, but that had to wait.He had to wait.Mickey didn’t though. “You ready?”

“Almost.”His hand was working furiously under the blanket that Ian very much wanted to pull out of the smaller man’s lap.

“Me, too.”Ian said, his rhythm faltering as he neared the point of no return.

“Ian,” Mickey said, voice tight.

Ian couldn’t tell if it was because Mickey was ready or if his PTSD was starting to drag him under again, so he said the magic words. “Cum for me, Mickey.” 

Mickey’s breath hitched and then Ian was lost in his own release.When it started to ebb, he slumped back in the couch.“Jesus.That was hot.”

“Thanks for reminding me I needed this.”Mickey said, leaning against Ian while wiping at his face.

“Oh, shit, sorry about that.”Ian exclaimed realizing it was cum Mickey was cleaning off his cheek.

Mickey looked at his finger for a moment, then at Ian, then he put his finger in his mouth.

He immediately turned green and started gagging.Ian clapped him on the back only to have his hand violently pushed away as Mickey leapt to his feet and spewed vomit all over the coffee table.He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as wild, unseeing eyes skittered around the room. 

Then he grabbed his undone pants with shaking hands and ran, without his crutch, into the bathroom slamming the door behind him.

***

Ian was sitting in the chair by the couch watching Mickey sleep.

Mickey had been sleeping for over 12 hours now.

He had cleaned up the night before, but the scent of vomit was still in the air.It was better than the smell of terror Mickey had brought to bed with him.

Ian had not slept much and he was tired. 

He had a lot on his mind.He should not have pushed.He had just wanted a little physical contact, maybe some kissing, but per the usual he had let it go way too far. 

Ian had had to ask Mildred to unlock the bathroom door.When he entered, Mickey had been in the shower again, fully clothed, one hand on his chest, the other between his legs clutching his ass.It was exactly like the last time. 

At least Ian knew what was happening and hadn’t also panicked this time.He had just sat down on the floor outside the shower and waited for Mickey to either calm down or hyperventilate until he passed out.The latter happened. 

He pulled the smaller man out of the shower, dried him off as best he could and put him to bed to let him sleep it off.That was what Dr. Brynner had told him to do if it happened again, so that’s what he did.

Then he had had to go pick up Frannie, feed her and get her to bed by himself.He told her Mickey wasn’t feeling well, which was true, but one hell of an understatement.

The memory was broken when Scraggles scratched at the door.Ian got up to let the dog out hoping to be quiet enough not to wake Mickey.

“I did it again, huh?”Mickey asked, rubbing at his eyes as he pulled himself up in bed to lean against the headboard.

Ian left the door open and made his way back towards Mickey, stopping at the foot of the bed to leave Mickey plenty of breathing room.“It was my fault.”

Mickey plucked at his shirt sleeve and shivered, not looking at Ian.“I went full batshit, I’m guessing, since my clothes are still fucking wet.”

“I wouldn’t call it batshit, but you did have a panic attack.”Ian replied.He knew what batshit looked like and what it felt like.It wasn’t getting lost in a terrible memory.It was full on delusions and hallucinations and not being able to distinguish what was real from what wasn’t.

“Did I pass out?” Mickey asked, pushing back the covers and pulling himself up a little more in the bed.

“Yeah.You were hyperventilating so bad.”It had been horrible to watch.“I’m really sorry I pushed you to that point.”

“Nah, that was me.Not you.”Mickey said, swinging his legs off the bed, sitting there for a moment like he was trying to stop the world from spinning.

“Did you hurt your knee?You ran on it without the crutch.”Ian asked as he handed the crutch to Mickey.

Mickey took the crutch and did a couple experimental bends with his knee.“Feels okay.”

“Good.”Ian had been worrying about that.

“Is today Saturday?”Mickey asked, standing up with the aid of the crutch.He pulled his pants up a little and started slowly walking toward the bathroom.

“Yeah.We have Connie today.”Ian wished they didn’t.He was exhausted and he didn’t like how weird things felt right now.

“Did you already run?”Mickey called out through the open door.

“Not yet.”Ian admitted.He didn’t feel like running.What he really wanted to do was go back to bed, but life wasn’t going to let him.He needed to stick to his routine, which meant he was going to get dressed and go run even if he didn’t want to.

He assumed Mickey would take Scraggles and Frannie for a walk at the same time.Weekdays they took the dog with them when they walked Frannie to school.Last weekend Mickey had decided to start taking them for a walk while Ian was running.Then they all met back up in the kitchen for breakfast.

“Fuck.Is Frannie okay?”Mickey asked, glancing at him for the first time since he woke up.

Clearly Mickey was still freaked out and the odd vibe between them was worse than ever.Ian decided to act like it wasn’t an issue, because they would have to spend a lot of time together today and hopefully it would get better as they went along.“She’s okay.I told her you weren’t feeling well.”

Mickey snorted.Then he walked out of the bathroom holding his toothbrush. “FaceTime again, right?”

“Yeah.”Ian shrugged.Debbie insisted this would be the last time, but Ian wasn’t so sure.It seemed like it was becoming a habit.

“I’m seriously thinking your sister is not working on coming here, man.I think Liam’s right and she’s just out partying.”Mickey said and then went back to brushing his teeth.

“Fiona says she’s working, trying to save up money.”Ian told him, but he wasn’t sure he believed it any more.Fiona was very hit or miss with her assessment of what was going on in her siblings lives.If she had something going on herself, she was far more susceptible to believing the rest of the family was fine even if they clearly weren’t.

Mickey went back into the bathroom and then back out.“Liam says she’s got some jerk off construction supervisor boyfriend.Who are you going to believe?”

Ian sighed.He knew how it looked.He had tried calling and texting Debbie several times, but she didn’t respond.She was still mad at him so he wasn’t going to get direct source information.It was also true that between Fiona and Liam, he was more inclined to believe his little brother.

Mickey went into the closet and came back out with a pile of fresh clothes.He headed back toward the bathroom and then paused to ask, “You need to piss?I’m gonna take a shower.”

“No.I’m good.”Ian knew that was Mickey’s way of telling him to stay out the bathroom until he was done.

“Don’t we have to let the Delgados FaceTime this week, too?”Mickey asked.

“I don’t know.It’s still pending the DNA test results.If we do, we’ll have them at 11:30 right after Debbie.”Ian was wondering how that would go since Derek had had zero interest in his daughter up to this point.Ian assumed it was the grandmother and sister who were pushing all of this.

“Jesus.”Mickey muttered, heading into the bathroom.

“It could be worse.”Ian said to himself as he got up and went into the closet to get dressed for his run. 

By the time he came out, Mickey was sitting on the bed shoving his feet into Timberland boots.Mickey took scary fast showers.He could be in and out in under five minutes, especially if he was stressed, but Ian had not thought it had taken him that long to decide what to wear and change into it.

Mickey leaned back, resting a hand behind him only to make a face and sit back up.“Fuck, next time, maybe not in my wet clothes?”

“I didn’t think you would want me to take your clothes off.”Ian protested, because even though he had seen Mickey’s body once when he was sick, he had not been allowed to see or touch those areas since then.Last night when he was debating what to do with a very soggy Mickey he had decided to respect the smaller man’s privacy even though he was pretty sure Mickey would be mad either way.

“Yeah, well, now the bed’s all wet.I bet this doesn’t dry out by tonight.”Mickey said, standing and throwing the covers back so the bed stood it’s best chance of air drying.

“If it doesn’t, you can sleep on my side.I’ll take the couch or something.”Ian offered, because what the hell else was he supposed to do.

“I could just sleep upstairs.”Mickey said, heading for the bedroom door.

The idea hit Ian like a gut punch.“Oh.”

“Just until it drys out, I mean.”Mickey said, turning around to look at him for the first time all morning.

“Okay.” Ian agreed, because he couldn’t really disagree.

“Ian.”Mickey chided.

“No, it’s okay.If that’s what you want.”Ian tried again, forcing a smile.It was not okay, but it wasn’t his decision to make.

Mickey waited for him to catch up at the elevator.“I don’t want to sleep in a man sized wet spot.”

Ian nodded as they waited for the doors to open.It didn’t feel like that was what Mickey meant.“Okay.”

“Quit worrying and go for your run, you fucking gazelle.”Mickey said, punching Ian in the shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My Oppa passed away at home with his wife of 58 years by his side. I went through this with both of my mother’s parents, but their passings were peaceful. They were ready. Oppa fought it to the bitter end. It was not peaceful. It was not easy.
> 
> Death is something you see as a nurse. You see good deaths and bad deaths (way more of these). Years of experience does not prepare you to see a loved one go so hard. 
> 
> I think part of why it was hard was because that side of my family never wanted to talk about it. No one had the hard conversations and when my sister or I tried to start one, we were shut down. They just couldn’t face it.
> 
> So, I urge you to have those uncomfortable conversations when you’re young enough to not be afraid of it. Especially in the age of COVID. Like me: I do not want to be coded, ever. If my heart stops, let me go. Do not intubate me. Do not do compressions. Some folks want everything that can possibly be done, done. Your choice...IF you tell your family what you want.
> 
> Living wills, actual wills, advanced directives, they save you and your loved ones a fuck ton of pain. You have no idea how often the forceful opinion of a distant relative you haven’t seen in decades can influence how you go out if you haven’t made your wishes abundantly clear in writing, on video, or audio. 
> 
> Also, if you’ve ever had to go through probate without a will, dear God, don’t do that to the people you love. It is a nightmare.
> 
> There are an abundance of free services online to help with these things. Think about it.
> 
> Anyway, that’s my rant for this week. Hopefully I’m a little less morbid the next time I post something. 
> 
> Thanks for reading and take care of yourselves!


	59. It’s Get’s Harder

Mickey and Ian had agreed not to tell Frannie when she would be seeing her mom.They didn’t want to set the little girl up for disappointment if Debbie was late or a no show.Connie showing up at their house was a pretty good indicator though.Since Connie had arrived, Mickey had endured a constant barrage of questions about when Debbie would call.

Connie and Ian were in the living room while Frannie and Scraggles were following Mickey around the kitchen as he got started on lunch.One of them was talking his ear off and the other was hoping for scraps.He was making a vegetable soup and baking the brown bread he had let proof in the fridge overnight. 

From the living room he heard Connie tell Ian, “So, it turns out DNA confirms Derek Delgado is the father and he is claiming his parental rights.”

“Oh.” Ian muttered.

Mickey was less diplomatic and asked, “Is he claiming his rights for himself or for his mother?”

“I couldn’t say.” Connie said.

Mickey rolled his eyes and resumed shaping the bread dough into loaves.

Ian did not sound very happy when he said, “Okay.”

“The first visit will be via Skype today at 11:30 this morning if that still works with your schedule.We just got the paternity results yesterday.”Connie asked.

“Yeah, that’s fine.”Ian agreed.They had been expecting this to happen either this visit or the next. 

Ian and Connie kept talking, but Mickey wasn’t listening anymore.He was watching Ian.The redhead was upset and trying to hide it.Mickey was right there with him trying to fake his way through the day pretending everything was fine when it was all shit.

He should have told Ian no, but Ian had seemed so forlorn he decided to try.Dancing had seemed like a safe way to give Ian what he wanted, himself something he needed, and all without any physical contact, but that idea had been an epic fail.

His skin still felt like it was stretched too tight, his side hurt and his stomach was in knots, but at least they weren’t alone.At least Connie was here and they had something to fill the morning with.Mickey didn’t want to be alone with Ian right now.

Debbie finally called, late again, but at least she called.Frannie ran into the living room and Mickey set the bread dough aside to rise while he focused on cutting up vegetables for the soup.

Debbie must have read a book about how to stay in touch with kids long distance because after about 15 minutes listening to Frannie tell her all about school, Debbie suggested they play a game.They ended up playing Eye Spy with Frannie running all over the living room and kitchen to find the things Debbie pointed out.Frannie fucking loved it.Seeing her happy was the first thing to make him smile all day.

Thankfully, when the visit was ending, Debbie managed to hold herself together.In fact, she seemed pretty comfortable, telling Frannie she loved her and would see her again in a couple weeks.Frannie cried, of course, but Debbie just kept telling her everything would be okay and they would be together again before she knew it.It was all a little too blithe in Mickey’s opinion.

Ian, who had helped Frannie with the game, picked the little girl up and held her while she cried after the screen went black.Things had gotten easier between his gingers lately.Frannie wasn’t blaming Ian for everything anymore even if her mother still was.

When Frannie finished crying and scrambled out of his arms to go take Scraggles out to the courtyard, Ian got up and pulled out his phone.“I need to make a few calls.Is it okay if I go upstairs for a bit?”

“Of course.”Connie said, also rising from the couch.“This will be a group Skype.The father, his mother and his sister will be on the call.I let them know we are a go.They’re calling me, though so I don't think we can use...”

“Sure we can.”Ian cut her off as he headed for the stairs.“You’re already on our WiFi so just ask Mildred to show the call on the TV.”

“What?”Connie asked Mickey since Ian had continued on up to his office.

“Remember the AI intercom thing?Since you’re already on the network, we can ask her to display the Skype on the TV, like with AirPlay.You literally just tell her to do it and she will.”Mickey explained.Now Ian was out of the room, he was relaxing a little.

“Wow.”Connie said, not looking comfortable with that level of access.

Mickey was sometimes freaked out by the things Mildred could do so he understood.He decided to distract her asking a question he had been wondering about.“So, it doesn’t matter the Delgados kidnapped her?”

“There was no formal charge of kidnapping brought against the Delgados.”She shrugged and the looked up at him, dark brown eyes probing.“Also, I am told the entire front side of their house had the windows broken.” 

“Monica Gallagher was a walking tsunami.That’s Ian and Debbie’s mom.She was a drug addict, bipolar AF, and refused to take her meds.A real piece of work.”Mickey knew about the bricks in the windows and the baseball bat. What Connie might not know was that Debbie had not been violent until Monica showed up.“I mean, the Delgado’s were holding Frannie for over a week and Debbie was just sleeping on their lawn and giving them breast milk through the security door until Monica showed up and blitzed the house.”

Connie grimaced.“Be that as it may, kidnapping, criminal trespass, destruction of property, fist fighting while holding an infant, panhandling with an infant, these are things that endanger the child.Both sides of this family have a lot of work to do.”

Frank and Monica were both dead, so the worst influences on the Gallagher side were gone. He hoped it meant the Gallagher siblings would finally be able to make their own choices without fear of a parent coming along and fucking it up for them.Mickey was jealous as hell of that.

“The mother tells me she has been saving up to move to New York.”Connie said, flicking a glance his way.

After a long silence, Mickey said what she had left dangling in the air between them.“Why isn’t Ian helping her?He’s offered.Repeatedly.So have I.”

“She lives with Fiona Gallagher, her older sister?”Connie said, because of course it was weird Debbie would allow Fiona to help her but not Ian.

There was one pretty big difference between them though.“Fiona’s been like their mother since she was six years old.Debbie was born in that house and Fiona raised her.”

“Perhaps she is afraid of losing her support system.”Connie theorized.

“Maybe.”Mickey shrugged.Debbie was living in her comfort zone and getting used to a life with the sort of freedom most teenagers enjoyed. 

“I’m going to go prepare the child for the next visit.”Connie said getting up and heading for the stairs down to the first floor and the courtyard.

“Her name is Frannie.”Mickey yelled after her, because while he was fine with Debbie being objectified as ‘the mother’ he didn’t like it when Frannie’s personhood was reduced to a simple noun.

Connie paused and offered him a rueful smile.“Yes, I know.”

***

“Mickey!Mickey!Mickey!”Frannie kept repeating his name over and over again as he tried to get the bread out of the oven.The call with the Delgados was over and Connie had just left when the timer for the bread went off.“Mickey!”

As he set the tray of loaves on the counter Frannie sing-songed his most hated nickname at him.“Mickey Mouse!”

“Hey.”He growled at her, mock angry but plenty annoyed.

She reached out to touch the bread and he lightly slapped her hand.She snapped it back and offered him a mischievous grin.Then she asked.“What does abuela mean?”

“Grandmother in Spanish.”Mickey told her, because of course she would have questions about the people she had been forced to spend 15 minutes with on Skype.It was supposed to be an hour, but Frannie’s attention had wandered and the Delgados and Connie had ended up spending the rest of the visit talking about realistic expectations from a child who did not know them.

“That lady said she’s my abuela.”Frannie told him.

“Yeah, she’s your grandmother.”Mickey confirmed, wondering where Ian was.He wanted some back up if this was going where he thought it was.

“That guy said he’s my dad.”

“Yeah.” Mickey grunted.Derek had been very quiet on the call, saying maybe three sentences, one of which was to confirm he was Frannie’s father when Celia told Frannie that was who the guy with the weird hair was.

“Mommy said I don’t have a dad.”Frannie told him, looking confused and a little angry because she knew someone was lying to her.

Mickey sighed.He was not the man for this job.Why did he always get stuck with it?“So the word ‘dad’ can be sort of complicated.”

“Why?”

“Well, because everyone has a father and a mother, that’s just biology, but not all mothers are moms and not all fathers are dads.”If this ended up being a talk about the birds and bees Mickey was going to murder Debbie and knee cap Ian.He had already had to do the death talk.He was _not_ doing the sex talk.

“I don’t get it.”

“A father is the guy who gave half the DNA to make you.”Mickey explained trying to be careful about what he said and how he said it.“A dad is the guy who’s there to take care of you, make sure you have food and a roof over your head, read to you, hold you when you’re upset, that kind of thing.Sometimes your father and your dad are the same guy, sometimes they’re not.Some kids don’t have a dad at all.”

She thought about that for a moment as Mickey got the butter out of the refrigerator and bowls out of one of the cupboards. 

When he came back to the island she asked, “So I have a father and two dads?”

That hit Mickey right in the feels. Taking a deep breath he clarified.“You have a father who might step up and be your dad and you have your Uncle Ian and me.”

“Uncles aren’t dads?”

“Uncles are brothers of your mother or father.They can sort of pick up the slack and act like dads, but they aren’t really dads.”Mickey told her.He didn’t want her to start thinking of them as dads.That would be bad for all of them, but mostly for her.

Her eyebrows scrunched.“If everyone has a mother and a father how does Sarah have two dads?Sumara has two moms.”

“Because of the difference between fathers and dads and mothers and moms.It takes a father and a mother to make you, but anyone can raise you.”He hoped that made sense to a four year old.

“So Sarah has a mother and Sumara has a father?”She asked, looking like she was going to be mad at her friends for lying to her.

Mickey didn’t want her to go to school and accuse her friends of being liars so they could go home and call their parents liars.He’d get booted off the PTA he hadn’t joined if that happened.He tried to clarify.“So they could be born, yeah, but that’s all.The important part is that Sarah is being raised by two dads who love her and Sumara is being raised by two moms who love her too.”

“That’s confusing.”Frannie said with a sigh. 

“Yeah, it is, so don’t worry about it.What matters is that the people raising you love you.”Mickey said as he started cutting the bread.

“Okay.”She agreed and hopped off the kitchen stool as Ian entered the room with raised eyebrows and a cocked head.

“How is it you are always MIA for the hard shit with this kid?”Mickey harrumphed. 

A tentative smile spread over Ian’s face and he shrugged. “I have excellent timing?”

***

Mandy was on her second glass of wine. 

The New York family had turned Sundays into family night at Ian’s house.It had sort of started before Christmas, but became ritualized when Frannie came to live with them and every Sunday since then they had gotten together for dinner.

While Ian, Svetlana and Iggy were talking about the Delgados and Frannie and Yevgeny were watching TV, Mandy was trying to figure out what the hell was going on with Mickey.

He had been in a foul mood since they arrived.She had tried to join the adult conversation so he could be an asshole by himself, but he pulled her back into the kitchen to tell her he would be moving back in March 1st.

Ian had warned her this would happen, but she hadn’t believed him.Apparently she should have.

The apartment had two bedrooms and one bath.When she leased it, it had been at the scary upper edge of what she could afford by herself.She had taken the financial risk because she had known Mickey would need a place to stay for a while to adjust to life on the outside and get his feet under him.It had never been intended to be permanent.They had talked about that several times way back in the beginning. Mickey had been planning on getting his own place before his hip gave out and he moved in with Ian.

He had been at Ian’s for five months and while it had been bad in the beginning it had seemed to her like things were much better lately.Something must have happened.

Then there was the problem of Iggy who had moved into her spare bedroom at Christmas. His job at the garage was going great and he was feeling good about himself for what she would bet was the first time in his life.He was doing great and she didn’t want to risk unsettling him.He still needed a foundation to build on.He couldn’t stand on his own yet.

Caught between a rock and a hard place she had to own the decision she had made when she let Iggy move in.“Iggy’s living with me now.”

“I’ve been paying half the rent this entire time, bitch.”Mickey protested and it sounded canned to her, like he had known she would tell him his room was gone. He hadn’t called her bitch in ages.

Clearly they should have talked about this, but discussions of money had always been uncomfortable in the Milkovich house so she had avoided it, like she avoided so many things in her life.At least she could honestly say, “I’ve been saving it so I could give it back to you.” 

“Why the fuck would I keep paying the rent if I wasn’t planning to come back?”Mickey asked as the oven beeped and he opened it to check on whatever he was cooking.“I’m moving back in.”

“Mickey, I’m sorry but Iggy is in the second room.”She never said she was sorry so the words felt weird on her tongue, but she was.She didn’t like seeing him distressed, but there wasn't anything she could do about it now.

“I don’t give a shit. He can sleep on the goddamn couch.”Mickey snapped, slamming the oven shut.

“No, that isn’t going to happen.”She told him, refusing to back down but feeling terrible about it.She had miscalculated.“Look, I thought you were going to stay here and I’m sorry I never talked to you about the rent money, but you could have talked to me, too.”

“I was paying the rent.What the fuck more did I need to say?”Mickey asked, both eyebrows arched and a sneer on his lips.He was so angry.

Her instinct was to get angry back.That’s how Milkoviches worked.If someone came at them with anger, Milkoviches shouted louder or hit harder, but so much of their life in New York was about breaking cycles she swallowed down the pending rage and tried to be reasonable.God, it was hard when he was glaring at her like this, but she took a deep breath and said, “It’s been months, Mickey.You knew Iggy moved in with me.I assumed when you didn’t say anything and all your stuff is here that you had moved in with Ian.The money was weird and we should have talked about it, but...”

“ _You_ moved me into Ian’s house.It was just until Gonzo said I could do stairs.Both of you knew that!”

“The last time we talked about this was October.It’s February, for fuck’s sake.Things change.”She slammed back the last of her wine, trying to hold her temper in check.She had learned to do this at work and she could do it at home with her family.She could.She could.She sighed and relaxed her hands which had balled into fists. With a calming breath she tried again. “Obviously, we need to do a better job communicating, but I’m not kicking Iggy out.I can’t.He makes less than half of what either of us make.He’s in night school and actually going to class.He’s seeing a therapist to help him with his dyslexia.He’s _doing_ it, Mickey.Our pothead, couch potato brother is getting his shit together and he has no one but me and you.No one.You have Svet and Yev and Ian and Frannie and a fuck ton of Gallaghers rooting for you.Iggy just has us.He needs this more than you do.”

“Fuck.”Mickey groaned, slumping like all the anger had been knocked out of him.

Sometimes she wished she could go back to the hard as nails, take no prisoners Southsider she had been because not feeling things was so much easier. Turning to Mickey she said, “I’m sorry, okay?I am, but if you absolutely have to bug out, you at least have five months of rent money to use as a down payment on your own place.”

“This is bullshit.”

“Living with me was never going to be permanent. You knew that.”She said again, softening even more. “I just wanted to help you get on your feet, you know? Now it’s Iggy’s turn.He needs the place a lot more than your skinny little ass ever did.”

Mickey ran a hand down his face, frowning. 

“And what about Frannie?” She asked, because for reasons unknown that little girl adored her brother.She treated him like he walked on water.If he said it, it was the gospel truth.If he did it, she tried to copy it.It was actually very cute watching Mickey followed around by his ginger mini-me. 

Mandy worried a little about Yevgeny, since he only saw Mickey nightly via FaceTime and in person on Sundays.It was the way it had to be given their custody arrangement, but there was no way it could appear fair to a six year old.

“Not my problem.”Mickey argued, but the look on his face said she had hit a soft spot.

Like her, the walls around Mickey’s inner self had started to come down.Every time Mandy saw him he was a little looser, a little softer, a little more who he really was inside.It was beautiful when he let it show, which made his asshole mask that much more annoying.  She wanted to argue with him, but there was no need. Body language told her he was already arguing with himself.

“Jesus.”He muttered, rubbing at his face again.

Mandy refilled her wine glass and then banged her shoulder against his.“You know you wanna stay.”

“You know fuck all about what I want.”He growled bumping her hard, but then he put an arm over her shoulders and sighed.

“What’s going on with you two?I thought things were going good?”She asked, because to the outside observer, Mickey and Ian looked like a couple.

“I see a shrink.You know _why_ I see a shrink.I’m pretty sure you can figure it the fuck out.”

Mandy’s heart sank.It had seemed like they had been handling it okay.Mickey was working through it and Ian was being as supportive as she’d known he would be.Even when Ian went manic, they got through it, but then again Ian could be very pushy when he wanted something.“Ian’s not...”

Mickey punched her shoulder.“He’s not doing anything.It’s just...I’m...I need some space.”

She breathed a sigh of relief.“I get it, but this house is fucking huge.How much more space do you need?”

“Everything okay?”Ian asked walking into the kitchen, a curious borderline concerned look on his face.

“Just my fucking sister reminding me she’s a bitch.”Mickey said, squeezing her against himin a one armed hug and then shoving her away.

She flipped him the bird as she escaped into the living room. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. Life has been pretty weird lately. I just haven’t been in the mood to write, or in the case of this chapter, edit. Once I finally sat down to work on it, I managed to get lost in it for a while which was a much needed break in my current head space.
> 
> It’s a wild world we’re living in. I’ll admit I’m scared. I’m scared of COVID. I’m scared of all the batshittery going on in our country (Portland...WTAF is that? CDC no longer collecting data...😳😬). 
> 
> We’re resilient people so I know somewhere in the future we will overcome the obstacles we currently face, but fuck. This sucks. 
> 
> Stay safe out there.


	60. Dung Beetle-TRIGGER WARNING

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING 
> 
> So, I know I said several chapters ago I could not make this any worse. In the process of editing I discovered, why yes. Yes I can. 😳🤦🏻♀️
> 
> Sorry in advance.
> 
> I remember on a personal level how cathartic it was when I was finally able to start having real conversations about the gory details with someone I trusted. It started getting better after that, but I had to get it all out before it did. Since this is informed in part by my own experiences (no where near this bad) Mickey is talking it out.
> 
> Hopefully this is the last time it’s this graphic, but as I edit, I change things so we’ll just have to wait and see.  
> Like with the other chapter - I wrote a synopsis in the end notes so you can skip reading the ugly bits.

“I don’t know what to do.”Mickey complained once he was settled in Dr. Mohammed’s office.He felt antsy and on edge.He had been feeling that way since he started going to group which he hated.It was a bunch of whiners gathered together to complain about their lives and talk endlessly about what had happened to them. 

Yeah, maybe knowing it happened to other people was helpful, but he hated listening to them talking about it.He hated how they all stared at him like he was supposed to join in the whining.He wasn’t a fucking whiner.They could fuck off with that shit.

Dr. Mohammed placidly asked, “About?”

“Ian.”Mickey blurted, feeling like the whiny bitch he did not want to be.Ian.Ian. Ian.Everything was always about Ian and lately, “Frannie.”

Dr. Mohammed nodded because this was not news to him.They had circled this barn many times.When he spoke it was to change the subject.“Your assumption Mandy gave her spare room to Iggy was correct?”

“Yeah.”Mickey was still pissed about it.Yeah, Iggy needed the room, but so did he.

“So you would have to get a place on your own.”Dr. Mohammed said.

“Yeah.”It would be expensive as hell.He had been lucky to have enough to cover his max out of pocket for his insurance, but it had taken a big bite out of his savings. Now it was a new year and a new max.He still had a Disney world trip to pay for too so he wasn’t feeling very financially stable at the moment.Taking on the expense of an apartment of his own would not help things, but he needed space.

“I know right now things are hard.I’ve spoken with Dr. Brynner to help her help Ian understand what’s going on, but I think you need to talk to him.”

“Fuck that!I don’t want to talk to him about any of this.”More than anything right now, Mickey just wanted space.He needed it.

“I am well aware.”Dr. Mohammed said, and he was. 

Mickey knew he sounded like a broken record.The stress of all he was trying to deal with in therapy was taking nearly all of his mental and emotional bandwidth.He barely had the strength to deal with work and Frannie which left him with precious little to deal with Ian’s needs too.“I want him to just leave me the fuck alone, but...”

When Mickey trailed off, Dr. Mohammed prompted, “But?”

“I can’t leave the kid.”Frannie adored him, which was weird as hell, but as much as he wanted breathing room, he didn’t want to be the second person she loved who abandoned her.

Dr. Mohammed leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs.“Very well.It is a six story house with a basement.Perhaps there are ways you can make space for yourself there?”

The place was huge, but they didn’t use much of it.Unless there were people over they basically lived on the second and third floors.“There’s an apartment in the basement.”

“I see.”Dr. Mohammed eyed him for a moment, made a note and then asked, “Is there no place in the main house you can go for privacy?”

“My office.”Mickey admitted.He spent a lot of time in his office these days.

“Ian doesn’t go in there?”

“No.I don’t go in his either.” If the door was open Ian might poke his head in, but he respected Mickey’s work space otherwise.

“There are how many bedrooms in the house?”

“Nine.”Mickey admitted.He didn’t have to share a room with Ian if he didn’t want to.

“What if you stayed in one of those rooms until we’ve worked through some of this?”

“He wants a boyfriend, not a roommate.”Mickey moaned.Yes, he could move into one of those other rooms but Ian would take it like a slap in the face.Moving out would be just as bad but at least Mickey wouldn't have to actually see it everyday.

“You are always so certain of what Ian wants.”Dr. Mohammed commented, looking at Mickey in a way that dared him to justify his assumption.“Do you ask him or do you assume?”

“It’s what he fucking wants.”Mickey wasn’t going to argue about this.Ian had been crystal clear about what he wanted.

“Very well.Are you intimate with him?”Dr. Mohammed asked, shifting gears.

“We’re not fucking.”

“Are you kissing?Hugging?Holding hands?”

They used to, but since Mickey started going to group, it was as if he was back at square one and the thought of being touched made his skin crawl and his gut liquify.“I can’t.”

“Have you told him this?”

“No.”Mickey admitted.He knew he needed to, but he hated disappointing Ian. 

“So things are strained between you because Ian feels you distancing from him.”

Mickey shrugged.Probably.

“Do you want to leave him?”Dr. Mohammed asked.

“I’m not with him.”Mickey denied, even if it did sound like a hollow protest in his own ears.He wanted to be with Ian.He could admit it now, but it felt pathetic and depressing because no matter what he wanted, he knew couldn’t have it.

“Mikhailo.”Dr. Mohammed chided.

“No, I don’t want to leave him, but just being in the same room with him knowing what he wants from me makes my fucking skin crawl.”There were looks Ian would give him that were both thrilling and repulsive.Being desired was nice and all, but not when it felt like pressure and scared the hell out of him. “We tried. Last Friday he complained about it so we tried and I ended up in the shower again.”

“He complained?”Dr. Mohammed asked.

Mickey knew the older man didn’t believe him because so far Ian had been a fucking saint about Mickey’s issues.He clarified, “He said we hadn’t been together in a long time and he wanted things to be like how they were before Frannie.”

“The highest level of intimacy achieved prior to Frannie was what?”

“None of your goddamn business.”Mickey snapped, but that never worked with Dr. Mohammed.Mickey was paying this man a lot of money to make it his business, so with a sigh he admitted, “We made out sometimes.He danced for me and I’d jerk off.We tried touching but that was a fucking disaster.”

“What did you try on Friday?”

“Dancing.”Even though Ian was built like an Adonis, being turned on was like walking a knife edge.If he fell off, it cut deep.

“At what point did it end?”Dr. Mohammed asked.

“We made it all the way, but he spooged on me and I fucking lost it.”

“You were able to reach completion?”

“Yeah.”Mickey hated how it had ended and hated himself for always pushing that little bit further that made things go to shit.If he had just wiped the cum off and not put it in his mouth everything might have been fine.

“What was it about the ejaculate that set you off?The smell?”

“Taste.” His stomach churned just thinking about it.

“I see.”

“Doubt it.Now things are even more awkward and I just need some fucking breathing room.” 

“You opted for dancing because there was no physical contact, is that correct?”Dr. Mohammed asked, making another note.

“It was his suggestion, but yeah.”Mickey had been so relieved when Ian offered to dance.He had not been able to make his brain shut off enough to make kissing or touching or anything involving physical contact okay.

“I see.”

“Is this ever gonna get better?You keep telling me I have to ‘stay the course’ but fuck, it’s worse now than it was before.”The more he remembered the worse it got. 

“Remember, you are a scarab beetle.You are pushing a big ball uphill.It is heavy.It stinks.It gets away from you sometimes, but if you can get to the top, it will begin to roll down the other side.You are very near the summit of this hill, Mickey, and then it will start to get easier.”

Dr. Mohammed always said that.Mickey had had to Google scarabs to understand the metaphor.Fucking dung beetle felt about right.The sessions with Dr. Mohammed were hard, but it wasn’t what was getting to him so bad.“I fucking hate group.”

“I am aware, but being among people who have lived through similar situations is helpful.”

“To who?Not me.”Once a week Mickey sat in a room with a bunch of sad sacks who had also been raped and listened to them whine about how much their lives sucked.He imagined it was what AA was like, where people told their stories, got some half hearted applause, and then went on being miserable sad sacks who continued to act like the world owed them something because they had an addiction.

It was triggering and horrible and he hated every second he spent sitting in that room with a bunch of people who either refused or couldn’t take responsibility for getting over it and moving on.Mickey wanted to move the fuck on.

“Stick with it a few more weeks.I think you will see how important participation is.”

Mickey had been very, very unwilling to participate so far.He just listened, occasionally said something snarky, and shared nothing about himself.He was there.They knew he had been raped.They didn’t need to know anything else about him or what had happened to him.Fuck those people.“What do I do about Ian?”

“Talk to him.”

“And tell him what?”That was the hard part.He didn’t know what to say.He didn’t want to reject Ian, but he also couldn’t be with Ian so it left the poor ginger idiot in a really tough spot. 

“What do you want from him right now?”

“To leave me the fuck alone.”He just needed room to breathe and process through the memories and emotions and find a way to let it all go so he could have a normal relationship with Ian someday.Presuming Ian could wait that long.

“How might you tell him you need more personal space in a way he would not hear as rejection?Unless rejection is the point?”

“No.I don’t...I just...I’m not rejecting him, I just need space.”He could not articulate it any better than that.He wanted to be with Ian, but he couldn’t right now and he didn’t know if he would ever be able to give his ginger what the other man needed.

“If you do not want to leave the house for Frannie’s sake, what steps can you take to get the space you need?”

“Move into one of the other bedrooms.”It was the only practical solution.

“Yes.”Dr. Mohammed said in the way Mickey understood meant he was pleased with Mickey’s answer.

“Set up a gym schedule so we’re not in there at the same time.”Mickey tossed out because as his physical therapy got more intense they tended to run into each other a lot in the gym.He had always loved how Ian smelled when he had been working hard.It was a scent he remembered from countless nights of sex and right now he couldn’t deal with that.

“Good.”Dr. Mohammed encouraged.

“Maybe he does breakfast with Frannie and takes her to school.He also picks her up so I can make dinner.”Mickey didn’t want to never see Ian again, he just didn’t want to see him as much as he did now.

“So you will have dinner together?”

“I guess.Frannie usually wants to tell us about her day.”She was always so excited when she got home telling them all about her friends and everything she learned.She had adjusted to her life with them and Mickey didn’t want to disrupt that.“I’ll just spend more time in my office and room when she’s not home.”

“What about weekends?”

“We’re stuck together every other Saturday morning until about one for visitation.We do family dinner on Sunday nights so I can hang out with Yev.”Mickey would not trade either of those things to avoid spending time with Ian.He wanted to make sure Frannie’s parents didn’t fuck her up too bad and he had a lot of time to make up with his son. 

“Maybe you could do Sunday dinners at Mandy’s or Svetlana’s sometimes to reduce the burden on you?”Dr. Mohammed asked.

“Svet suggested we work on rotating.”She wasn’t a bad cook and it would be nice to not be responsible for the meal every time.It would also be nice to read bedtime stories to his son in person sometimes rather than via FaceTime.

Then the time for easy-ish things was over. “I’d like to pick up from where we left off.”

Mickey nodded. 

***TRIGGER WARNING***

Read what follows at your own risk.

Dr. Mohammed opened his journal to the most recent page.“Let’s see, we were talking about Terry. When the event started, what was he doing?”

Mickey shrugged, trying to ease the tension that immediately settled between his shoulder blades.He took a deep breath and forced himself to think about that room. Terry.What had he been doing?“Just sitting there.”

”Did he say anything?”

”Not that I remember, other than telling me I’d never be able to look at Ian the same way again.” Mickey said, trying to remember if there was anything else. Probably wasn’t.When his dad was on a revenge mission he tended to be pretty quiet.

“The attack was planned.”Dr. Mohammed said, reading Mickey’s thoughts.

“Yeah.Probably.”Mickey agreed.The timing had been too good.“They knew when class ended and which room I’d be in. I was teaching math, remember?”

“I do. You were good at it.”Dr. Mohammed had gotten him that job.He had thought working in the school teaching grown men how to do math for a GED class would be safer than working in the laundry.

Mickey snorted.It had not been safer and he had been a terrible teacher.He had no patience for fools and half his class couldn’t do basic multiplication.Fractions?Forget about it.“I was trying to teach those fuckers fractions.”

“I see.”

“I was erasing the chalkboard when they blitzed me.”They had talked about this before.

“Was Terry part of the blitz or did he hang back?”

Mickey hated these questions.They had been over this before, but it was like pealing an onion, each time they went a layer deeper.This was all part of it though so he let his mind wander back in time. 

They had slammed him face first into the chalk board.His nose broke and there was blood in his eyes because they’d cracked the skin on his forehead.There had been a lot of hands on him, more than he could fight off.Something hit his ankle, immediately buckling it.He didn’t remember feeling it, the terror had been too great.They slammed him over the desk and he struggled, trying to buck off the guy who was behind him as the cold realization this wasn’t just a murder hit him.

He fought hard enough they started beating him again, this time something cracked hard on his hip.His leg went out from under him.He could feel it, but not move it and he remembered thinking that was weird, that he couldn’t control his leg, but then something sharp was at his back, cutting off his coveralls...

“Mickey, where was Terry?”

Jolted back into the office, he blinked hard and said, “He...I dunno.”

“Try to remember.”

“Fuck.”Mickey cursed.He didn't want to remember but this was all part of it: facing it, talking about it, working through his feelings and emotions.“Yeah.Okay.”

He willed himself back. Face in the chalkboard.Too many hands.Ankle...that was the pipe.It was long, heavy and the hand holding it said HOLE.Holy fuck.“He’s the one who broke my ankle.”

“How do you know?”

“He’s got ASSS HOLE tatted on his knuckles.I saw the HOLE.”

Dr. Mohammed arched an eyebrow and scribbled something in his journal. “Interesting choice.”

“Said it was so people knew what he thought of them when he knocked them out.”Mickey had been told that more times than he could count.His father thought he was an asshole and that had hurt like hell when he was a kid.

“Well.”Dr. Mohammed looked at him with deadpan expression.

As he got older and angrier Mickey saw something different in those tattoos.“Yeah, more like a self own, but I’d never say that to his face.”

“Wise.”Dr. Mohammed agreed.Then he asked, “Did he also crush your hip?”

Mickey thought about it and couldn’t remember.“Not sure.Probably.”

“When is the next time you remember seeing him?”

Mickey forced himself to go back to it again.They were cutting his coveralls off.He couldn’t stand.He was on his belly, splayed out over the desk top.Then his ass was bare.

He knew what was coming.He would die first and hobbled as he was, he was fighting like a tiger.Then someone hit his head, probably with the pipe and everything went black.

“ _Face up.I want him to see you._ ”Terry’s voice.Close.

The next thing he saw was a fat man with an orange beard and a swastika on his forehead looming over him.There was a dick nudging at his ass like an over eager teenager who doesn't know what he’s doing yet... “Terry said ‘face up.I want him to see you’.That was the ginger fuck.”

“Was Terry across the room?”

“No.He was close.”Mickey lost track of his dad when they clumsy fucker finally got himself lined up right and then it was just pain. 

He stood up and started pacing.Dr. Mohammed let him pace, watching him closely.He felt raw and wired, but moving helped.

“What are you feeling?”

Mickey rubbed hard at his side, the ache was intense and all in his head.“Unwanted dick.”

“Mickey, were are you right now?”

In some previous sessions he had not been able to occupy the real world and his memories at the same time.The memories consumed everything.The tempo of this conversation was making it easier to stay grounded in reality.He knew where he was.“In your office.All my clothes are on.No one’s touching me.” 

He kept pacing and Dr. Mohammed sat, silently writing in his journal with one of his fancy pens.

“Fuck this hurts.”Mickey grumbled, wishing the ache in his side would just go away.Why didn’t it go away when he knew it wasn’t real?Shouldn’t it stop?

“Then what did Terry do?”

The ginger skinhead fucked him like it was his first time.Once the initial pain abated, Mickey remembered thinking the guy was a terrible lay, but that wasn’t what he was supposed to be focusing on.Where had Terry been?“The next thing I remember was him telling me I’d never been able to look at Ian again.”

“Which was the point of the encounter. Was he looking at you when he said that?”

“No.No, he was looking at the floor.”Thinking back, Terry had mostly been looking at the floor.Was he maybe, possibly a little ashamed of what he had done?Probably just disgusted. “He wanted the gay fucked out of me, he said that too.”

“But he didn’t watch?”

Terry had never been a good father.Not once could Mickey remember his father having anything nice to say to him.It was always insults and instructions.If he did it right, silence.If he did it wrong, insults and a beating.His siblings had it a little better since Terry didn’t give them the hard jobs. They got the brute strength stuff, like beating people up or digging holes to put the bodies in.Mandy, he didn’t want to think about what Terry had done to her.“Why does he hate me so much?”

“Your father is a very angry man with a lot of fear.”

That didn’t answer Mickey’s question, not that he thought an answer was really possible.Terry was just an evil bastard and Mickey had given him a laundry list of reasons to hate him.“He just...sat there.He was picking his teeth at one point, like he was bored.I remember that.His goons were breaking my ass in half and he’s fucking _bored_.”

“I see.”Dr. Mohammed said.“Remember to breathe Mickey.This is a marathon, not a sprint.If you need to stop, we can stop.”

Mickey thought about stopping.He glanced at his watch.They still had time.And the memory of his father’s boredom triggered another memory.

“So the ginger’s done with me and I’m on my stomach.Then there’s someone else pounding me and another guy puts his dick in my face.I know what’ll happen if I bite him, so...I don’t.I just let him face fuck me and I’m choking on dick and tears and I just...” And it is all Mickey can do to walk over to the window and hold on to the frame.His hands are shaking.He needs to not let this drag him all the way under, but it’s washing over him like he’s there and... “He told him to stop.”

“Told who to stop?”Dr. Mohammed asked.

“The face fucker.He told him to stop.Guess he didn’t like it.”

“No one else penetrated your mouth?”

“Not that I remember, no.”Mickey sometimes hated how clinical Dr. Mohammed sounded, but couldn’t imagine the man ever not talking that way. It was a forced blow job. He could call it that, Mickey thought as another memory jarred loose.“The guy didn’t stop until he finished though.”

“What did Terry say to that?”

The guy has spooged in his mouth and just the thought made bile rise in this throat.He could imagine the taste and he nearly gagged on it. But then Terry was there, right next to him. “I...he...pulled the guy off me.Punched him.”

“I see.”

“He just didn’t like being disobeyed. I still had a dick in my ass so it wasn't like he was being a saint or some shit. ” Mickey growled because he hated feeling grateful at least that part had been stopped.

“Of course not.”

“Like that’s not merciful or anything.”Was it though?In the midst of all the broken bones and the dicks, things that Terry had forced on him, this one humiliation he had put a stop to.He had not let anyone else use Mickey like that.

“Oh, Mickey.”Dr. Mohammed sighed and closed his journal.He set it on the coffee table and rested the ornate pen on top of it. “I think we need to stop for today.”

“Yeah.Okay.”Mickey agreed, ready to be done, but still feeling this little tickle of emotion he needed to address. “It’s stupid I’m thinking that was...I dunno...kind of him?”

“When you are in pain, anything that reduces that pain might feel like a kindness.”

“Like a kicked dog wagging it’s tail.”Mickey said, feeling like he was a dog.His father just didn’t want to watch a gay blow job, but it had saved him pain so he...he what?He forgave him?

“Something like that, yes.”

The little fluttering emotion choked on a wave of anger.The fact was none of it would have happened to him had Terry not planned it.So, no.It wasn't kind.It was just Terry saving himself from having to see something he didn't want to see.It wasn’t kind or merciful or anything meant for Mickey.It was as self serving and cruel as everything else.Mickey rubbed at his eyes and wished that just once, just one fucking time... “I just wish...like, I wish...”

“I know.”Dr. Mohammed rose and walked over to him.He rested a hand on Mickey’s shoulder that the smaller man wanted to shake off, but did not.He let the weight of that hand sit there until it finally became the comforting gesture it was meant to be.

Still staring out the window at nothing, Mickey asked, “Do you still know people there?Like, anyone who can keep an eye on him?”

“I do and they are.”Dr. Mohammed assured.“You will know if he gets out.”

Mickey had asked that same question probably fifty times, but he kept asking.He needed to know someone would tell him when Terry got out.He needed that.He reached up and patted the Doctor’s hand on his shoulder before shrugging it off.“Thanks, Doc.” 

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brief synopsis of the second half:   
> Mickey and Dr. Mohammed talk about Mickey’s favorite topic - Ian. They talk about him wanting to move out but not wanting to because he doesn’t want to leave Frannie. They come up with a solution which is basically Mickey moving into another room like he should have done ages ago. He is nothing if not stubborn. 
> 
> Once that issue is sorted out they delve a little deeper into what happened to Mickey in prison. Mickey was a math teacher for GED classes and was assaulted in his class room. Working through trauma can be a bit like peeling an onion - it’s the same thing over and over again but each layer is a little deeper. They talking about Terry’s part in the assault. Mostly Terry watched. However, at one point he did intervene to stop something he didn’t want to see. Mickey wrestles with feeling grateful for a small kindness in the middle of hell equating the situation to a kicked dog that still wags it’s tail at it’s abuser. The session ends with Dr. Mohammed reassuring him that he has friends back at the prison who are keeping an eye on Terry.
> 
> As I said in the summary - he has to get it all out before it can heal. This is another step in that direction.
> 
> Hope this wasn’t too horrible.
> 
> Anyway, as always, take care of yourselves. Wear a mask. Socially distance. Wash your hands frequently. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	61. Moving

“We need to talk.”Mickey said, poking his head into Ian’s office.

From the look on his face to his body language, it was clear this was going to be a painful talk.Ian was almost done working for the day anyway.He had one last email to send and then Mickey could ruin his life.“Okay.I just need to finish...”

“Now.”Mickey snapped as he walked back out of Ian’s office.

Even though he had seen this coming and he and Dr. Brynner had talked about it, Ian felt like crying.Mickey was going to tell him he was moving out.It had been brewing for a while, but now it was finally happening.

Ian finished his email and hit send.It was a petty act of defiance, but in a situation where he had no control, it made him feel a little better.He got up, went down the stairs and found Mickey in his kitchen starting work on dinner.“Okay.What do you want to talk about?”

Mickey did not look up as he announced, “I’m moving back into my old room.”

It took a second to compute.

Mickey glanced up.“Or I can move all the way out, I just need some space.”

“Anything you need, Mickey.” Ian agreed, trying to act nonchalant though he had a weird happy/sad feeling in the pit of his stomach.He had thought Mickey was going to move out and he might never see him again.

“I don’t wanna leave Frannie.”Mickey said.

That stung and Ian couldn’t help asking, “But you’re okay leaving me?”

Mickey glared at the vegetable he was chopping.“I’m going through some shit, man.Gimme a break.” 

“Sorry.I know you are.”Ian agreed quickly, telling himself he should be happy not to be cut out of Mickey’s life entirely.This was better than he had hoped for.

Mickey glanced up at him.“She doesn’t deserve to get hurt.”

“I agree.”Ian replied. He and Dr. Brynner had talked about Frannie a lot trying to figure out how to handle her if Mickey moved out.They got along a lot better than they used to, but she was really attached to Mickey.Losing him would be traumatic for her so Ian was glad Mickey was prioritizing her.

“I just need some space.”Mickey repeated.

Ian nodded.

Dr. Brynner said therapy like Mickey was going through was a lot like rebuilding a burned out house.It had to be demoed down to the studs before the repair work could start.It had to be rebuilt from the foundation to the roof. 

Mickey had been demolished, but his foundation was strong.He had family and people who cared about him and supported him.He had financial independence.He wasn’t stuck in Ian’s house.He was choosing to stay. 

Staying for Frannie put a lot of extra pressure on him, but Ian admired Mickey’s stubborn determination to be a better man than he had been raised to be.Recognizing Frannie needed some stability and trying to provide it when he was far from stable himself was one of the many things Ian loved about Mickey.

Feeling bittersweet, Ian said, “Look Mickey, you’ve always been there for me.Now it’s my turn.What else can I do to give you the space you need?”

Mickey finally stopped distracting himself with chopping vegetables and looked at Ian. His expression was uncertain.“I dunno.I mean, we gotta keep things normal for Frannie.That’s the point, right?”

“Sure.” Ian agreed because it meant they would still see each other every day. “So breakfast and dinner stay the same I guess?”

Mickey shrugged. “I guess.”

“Weekends?”Ian asked.Weekdays would be easy with jobs to distract them and day care to occupy Frannie, but weekends they tended to spend together.

“Gotta be around for the visitation.Keep things normal looking.”Mickey said and it occurred to Ian the brunette had thought this through pretty well.They did need to maintain appearances for DCFS.“The rest of the time can we like...I’ll take her on visitation weekends and you take her the off weeks?”

“So like joint custody, kinda?”Ian asked, wondering if Frannie would actually let them do that. She was used to having both of them available any time all the time.

“Yeah, like that.”

That meant after visitation he needed to clear out and find himself something else to do.He used to have hobbies and friends before he devoted himself entirely to being available for Mickey.Time to get back to it.“If that’s what you need.”

“It’s what I need.”

“Okay.That’s okay.”Ian agreed feeling sad, but trying to wrap himself up in the silver lining of the situation.Months ago he had suggested taking a step back from trying to force things back to how they used to be.He offered the idea of just being friends, something they had never really been before.If that friendship turned into a relationship, it would be off to a much healthier start than anything else they’d tried.

Still, Ian wasn’t looking forward to how awkward this was likely to be, at least in the beginning.

So to spare some of it, Ian decided it was time he go back to working from the office full time and maybe resume his work related travel schedule.That way he’d have something to do with himself that felt normalish while being caught in abnormal circumstances. “I’m going to go back to work at Claymore.You’ll have more space that way.I’ll take Scraggles with me so you don’t have to worry about him either.”

“Sure.”Mickey said immediately.“That’ll work.”

Ian snorted.He knew Mickey had never really liked the dog.Since going back to work went over well, Ian sent up a trial balloon, saying, “I also put off some travel stuff I need to do, so I might start doing some of that too.”

“Yeah, okay.”Mickey didn’t bat an eye.Ian had expected more suspicion or something, but Mickey didn’t see to care.In fact, he looked relieved. 

“Can we switch the weekends though?That way I’m totally off the hook those days and I won’t end up skipping out on her.”

“Yeah, whatever.”Mickey said, glancing up at him again.

“You’ll be okay with Frannie by yourself?”Ian asked.He wasn’t sure it was good for either of them if they were entirely alone.Maybe Svetlana or Mandy could stay with them when he was out of town.

Mickey shrugged.“Guess we’ll find out.”

“I’m so sorry, Mickey.”Ian said, wishing there was a way to make things easier on the smaller man.This next chapter of their lives was not going to be much fun.

“This isn’t about you.”Mickey replied, posture and expression tightening.“Well, maybe it is, but not how you think.I just...I’m super jumpy, like on the edge of losing it all the fucking time.”

“Because you’re near me.”Every panic attack Mickey had happened as the result of something sexual.It made Ian feel guilty.

Mickey looked up at him, read him like the open book he was, and tried to clarify.“Look, it’s shit in my head.Like a buzz, you know?It’s loudest when you...but it’s not your fault.I just need to put some distance between you and me so I don’t freak out and the kid ends up collateral damage.”

“Okay.”Ian agreed, hearing the unspoken part.Mickey didn’t want a repeat of the Christmas incident with Yevgeny. 

Mickey went back to cutting vegetables though he still looked tense.

There really wasn’t anything left to say, Ian thought.He stood up and rolled his shoulders trying to loosen the muscles that had tightened as they talked.“I guess I should help you move your stuff, then I’m gonna disappear for a while.”

“Yeah.Okay.”Mickey agreed, putting down the knife and heading for the elevator.Ian decided to take her stairs. 

Mickey beat him to their...Ian’s room.He was in the bathroom gathering up his things so Ian got to work in the closet.

Mickey didn’t have a lot of stuff so it didn’t take long.Ian held one of Mickey’s shirt to his face and inhaled.He choked up a little, knowing there was a long road ahead of them and it was quite possible when the final mile was walked it would be Mickey walking away from him.

He stepped out of the closet holding a laundry basket filled with Mickey’s shoes and clothes. 

Ian didn’t wait for Mickey.He just started up the stairs and paused outside the room that was once again Mickey’s.There was a sad sort of symmetry to it, Ian thought, Mickey going back to his old room. 

It was like a physical reminder they were back at the beginning again.

As Ian was hanging up Mickey’s clothes Mickey came in with a bag of his things from the bathroom. 

Once all of Mickey’s stuff was transferred, awkwardness seeped in. 

Ian wished there was something he could say to make it easier, but if there was he couldn’t think of it. 

Ian had no reason to be there anymore.

It was hard to walk out the door knowing it was closing behind him.How long it would be closed or if it would ever open again, he couldn’t know. 

It felt like the end. 

He asked, “So, I guess that’s it.”

Mickey looked at him, then away, and then back up at him.“We aren’t done, fire crotch.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...and neither are we. As I edit and rewrite and move things around this just keeps getting longer and longer. It’s too much for a single story so were stopping here. Obviously, I’m far from done so please look out for the next part. It’s called Restoration. 


End file.
